


A Night In San Salvacion

by Skylinneas



Series: Tales of Strangereal [4]
Category: Ace Combat
Genre: F/M, Gen, Multi, POV Multiple, Post-Game(s), Strangereal Universe (Ace Combat), Video Game: Ace Combat 04: Shattered Skies, Video Game: Ace Combat 7: Skies Unknown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 49,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26104354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylinneas/pseuds/Skylinneas
Summary: One month after the Lighthouse War ended, things are settling down in Usea. During one peaceful night in the city of San Salvacion, old friends are reunited and new friends are made as they share stories, friendship, love, and comfort to each other. Who knows what might come next? (A semi-continuation of my Grounded Aces fanfic)
Relationships: Blaze/Kei "Edge" Nagase, Hans "Archer" Grimm/Brownie
Series: Tales of Strangereal [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1895308
Kudos: 10





	1. Trigger - A Meeting of Aces

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of my 'Grounded Aces' fanfic, so be sure to check that story out first if possible! :)

There's nothing quite like a night out at a local bar after a good day's work.

For the past week, the LRSSG was cooperating with Yuktobania's Foreign Intelligence and Resources Division in a joint operation to provide relief to the Usean countries suffering from the "Lighthouse War". San Salvacion is their latest destination. Princess Cossette's formal peace declaration leads to the release of prisoners of war captured by Erusean soldiers, and all were officially liberated when their planes touched the ground at San Profetta Airport.

And that means I can finally reunite with my long-lost friend at last.

"Cheers to Brownie! Our favorite fledgling has returned to her family!"

Knocker announced proudly as he and everyone else in the bar raised their glasses to toast Alicia "Brownie" Harvard, my friend in Golem Squadron who was presumed dead after her plane was shot down by the Erusean ace Mister X. Got to admit, I teared up a little when I finally saw her in a flesh again after all this time. I really thought I had lost her for real that day, until an unexpected phone call from her finally confirmed to me that, yes, she's still alive against all odds.

"I'm glad we're all finally together again, guys." Clown smiled, "Damn, why haven't we run into each other earlier?"

"Well, Trigger got incarcerated, and I was _dead._ " Brownie joked, "Seriously, no one stood up for this poor guy when he was accused of killing Harling?"

"We all did, actually," Knocker explained, "Both me and Clown tried again and again to convince the judges that Trigger wasn't responsible, but they will hear none of it. They really wanted Trigger to be the fall guy and there's nothing we could do."

"Guys, can we _not_ bring that up, please?" I told them. That stuff about Harling is still making me nervous up until now, even though I was already proven innocent of it,

"Look on the bright side, Trigger. If you didn't get burned, you wouldn't have met me!" Count grinned and slapped me on my back, "And the Scrap Queen, Tabloid, and all the colorful guys in our illustrious 444th."

"Yeah, right," Avril spoke up, "even that jerk McKinsey is colorful for you too, eh?"

"Holy hell, you ended up with McKinsey? How are you even still alive?" Knocker asked, his voice sounded impressed. Even Clown nodded in agreement. "I swear, that S.O.B. treated medals on his uniform better than the men under his command. We had the displeasure of escorting him once. Had to try really hard to resist the urge to shoot that asshole's plane out of the sky."

"Believe me, both of us were seriously considering it," I replied, "But that DicKinsey was our only ticket to freedom, so we had to play nice for him. I had to keep telling myself that it'd be the last time I'd fly for him."

"And for that, you get to join up with us," Jaeger said proudly, "It was worth it in the long run. Through your patience and persistence, you finally vindicated yourself and become a hero. You would make a great role model for my son."

"I'm happy to say that you won't be hearing more from that douchebag any longer," Húxiān grinned, "I heard your Colonel McKinsey got his ass shot down a few months earlier after the satellites went down. You know, IFF malfunctioning and stuff. His plane was targeted by friendlies and two missiles ended the man's whole career."

"Good riddance!" Count cheered, "Hell, he really couldn't have died sooner if you ask me."

"I was never one to wish for someone's death, but I'd be lying if I didn't say that the guy kinda deserved it," Knocker added.

"I guess fighting the Arsenal Birds must've been a holiday for you after everything you've gone through. Ain't that right, you dumbass?" Avril asked with a smile on her face, "It's a real shame I wasn't there with you and Sir Count through most of it. Instead, I'm shipped off to that hellhole island and had to play a caretaker to a certain princess."

"I'll drink to that," Brownie agreed as she drank the rest of the drink in her glass before slamming her glass on the table, "I'm surprised you didn't put a bullet in that bitch's head after everything she did, Avril. She's a goddamn war criminal!"

"Whoa, chill out, lady." Avril said as her smile faded, her voice sounded uncomfortable, "The princess's a victim of this war just as much as everybody else. She was manipulated by the actual warmongers who wanted to keep the war going, and they tried to have her killed when she outlived her usefulness. Besides, without her, the war would still be going on right now."

"So what? She's still the one who declared war on us in the first place," Brownie retorted, "She dragged us all into this whole mess. If she didn't, I wouldn't get shot down and ended up a POW seven months, not to mention one hellish nightmare that haunts every time I closed my eyes. For me, that bitch is no better than McKinsey."

" _That bitch_ is my friend, miss. Without her, we would have lost everything when the AIs take over. Watch your tone." Avril said coldly, "You're not the only one who suffered in the war. Don't make this all about you."

Suddenly, the bar goes quiet. No one spoke a thing as Brownie and Avril glared at each other. Brownie, in particular, shot an intense look that is both filled with rage and grief at Avril. I can see that the experience she went through with Mister X left her…traumatized. I'm not surprised that Brownie would still hold a deep grudge on the Eruseans for what she went through.

After what seems like forever, Húxiān breaks the silence.

"Girls, come on, act like adults!" She began, "Brownie, I understand what you went through. I really do, but Avril's not wrong when she said that everyone suffered in this war, the princess included. She lost her entire family, even her dog for God's sake, and now she has to run an entire country devastated from _two wars_ all on her own. Cut her some slack. And Avril, Brownie had a point when she said that victim or not, Cossette is as much a culprit who's responsible for the war as her military officers. Sure, they might be the ones who escalated the war, but she's also the one who promoted it. If she hadn't, we wouldn't even be in this whole mess in the first place."

Another silence took place. Both Avril and Brownie looked at Húxiān then at each other back and forth. Finally, they both sighed and take another drink.

"…ugh…Fine. You win, Húxiān. I guess I was too harsh on you, Brownie. I haven't been through what you've been through. Perhaps if I were, I would've understood why you're so mad at her." Avril said,

"Oh, believe me, I _am_ still mad at her," Brownie replied, "but you're right. I wasn't the only one who suffered in the war. I shouldn't be thinking only about myself. At least that princess of yours got an entire country to fix because of her role in that mess. I suppose that should be enough."

"So it's settled between you two, then?" Húxiān asked, then she smiled as the two nodded back, "It's supposed to be a celebration, goddamnit. Let's celebrate!"

And with that, smiles are back on everyone's faces again. And I was very nervous for a moment.

 _Damnit, Húxiān. You're so Team Mom._ I thought, then I chuckled after seeing Count's awestricken face when he looks at Húxiān. He's clearly thinking "I am so happy/scared that this girl is my girlfriend".

Just when we're about to toast again, however, the bar's door swings open.

"Uh, Captain. I don't think this is the right place." A young brown-haired guy spoke up as he walked into the bar with his five companions.

"Nah, this is the place, Grimm. And there's someone I'd like you to meet." A middle-aged dark-haired man in front of him grinned as he stared at us. He's someone I know really well. "Sorry we're late, Trigger."

"If it isn't the famous Jack Bartlett!" I greeted the Captain, "Nice of you to finally join us, buddy."

"So this is the guy, huh?" Another dude who's standing behind "Grimm" spoke up as he gave me a curious look. He looks about the same height as me, and I can tell from first glance that he used to be a pilot. A very experienced one at that.

"Yep, that he is," Bartlett confirmed, "Blaze, meet Trigger. Trigger, this is Blaze. Have fun, you two."


	2. Blaze - War Stories

So this is the guy. That hotshot pilot with the Three Strikes emblem. The hero of the Lighthouse War.

"Nice to meet you, Mister…" I greeted him, before pausing after I realized I didn't actually know his real name.

"It's okay. Just call me Trigger. Everyone else did." Trigger grinned as he shook my hand. Heh, at least he seems like a chill guy.

"So you must be the pilot who saved the Lighthouse and allowed my spaceship to dock safely," Nagase smiled as she shook his hand as well, "It's an honor to finally meet you in person, sir."

"J…just doing my job, ma'am! The pleasure is all mine!" Trigger answered nervously. I could tell Nagase is making him flustered a bit. I can totally understand that. I mean, who wouldn't?

"Oh my God, you're that famous astronaut!" One of Trigger's lady friends spoke up excitedly, "Captain Kei Nagase! It's…it's an honor, ma'am!"

"Damnit, Húxiān, you look like you've just seen your childhood crush," Another lady, whom I recognized as Princess Cossette's mechanic friend we met at the Lighthouse, teased her friend before giving her a light punch in the shoulder, "This is a surprise, Nagase, but a very welcome one. Never expected you'd show up here. I thought you'd still be dealing with all that press with Cossette in Selatapura."

"Her royal highness is doing a great job taking care of the refugees at the Lighthouse, Miss Mead," Nagase replied with a smile, "I and my friends were actually planning to stick around and help her as well but she politely insisted that I take some time off since I just came back from space. I didn't want to turn her down."

"Sounds like Cossette, alright. That idiot, always pushing herself too hard." Avril smiled. Heh, she must be the only person I know who could address a royal princess this casually.

"Also, you can just call me Avril. No need for all that 'miss' nonsense. I don't do well with titles."

That prompted a giggle from both Avril and Nagase. I can't help but smile as well. I always loved seeing her lovely smile.

"Alright, I guess we'll go fix ourselves some drinks. You guys can join us later after you boys are done talking." Bartlett said to me and Trigger.

"Great idea. I could use some nice whiskey right now," Pops agreed.

"I'm right behind you, sir," Snow replied, "Grimm, you joinin' us?"

"Absolutely, Captain!" Grimm said enthusiastically, though I noticed that his eyes are fixated on a young brown-haired lady at the bar.

As we settled ourselves at the bar and finished our introductions with Trigger's friends, Trigger turned to look at us with a curious look on his face.

"So, Bartlett mentioned you guys a lot," He began, "Heard you guys were big deal pilots in the last war."

"Big deal pilots?" I frowned at Bartlett.

"Well, I ain't wrong, aren't I?" Bartlett said.

I chuckled. So apparently, Bartlett didn't mention to Trigger that I and my friends were actually the infamous Razgriz pilots. That info was supposed to be classified.

"Interesting," Clown spoke, "I and Knocker fought in the war back then as well but we never heard of you guys."

"Which squadron did you fly in back then?" Snow asked.

"Hmm, the 108th Tactical Fighter Squadron, if I recall. Had to work with a hardass AWACS called Thunder-blockhead or something." Knocker answered, prompting my friends to glance at each other with confused looks on their faces. Of course, I couldn't believe what I just heard as well.

"The 108th? You mean the Wardog Squadron?!" I asked. Wardog Squadron was supposed to be _us_. When did these guys come from!?

"Yeah, we got assigned to it after the previous members were all shot down in Ceres Ocean," Clown explained, "I don't know much details, but I heard they were actually spies for the Yukes – you know, our enemies back then."

"Which is pure bullshit!" Knocker suddenly cut in, "The Demons of Razgriz will never betray our country. They saved our boys' hides multiple times throughout the war. The only people who would call them traitors are either idiots, or they're the actual traitors who framed them because they're becoming a threat."

Wow, where were pilots like Knocker on Sand Island back then? This guy is on point. We probably wouldn't have to flee the base and faked our deaths after Hamilton framed us back then.

"Captain, you're really a big fan of the Razgriz pilots, huh?" Brownie, the lady that Grimm was eyeing earlier, said with a smile, "Never saw you fanboying like this before."

"They were _heroes_ , Brownie!" Knocker replied, "They started out as trainees, not unlike you and Trigger before. After Captain Bartlett here got shot down and taken POW by the Yukes, those nuggets were left to fend for themselves in surprise attacks one after another, but they managed to pull through and become the finest pilots in our air force. They deserved better than getting shot down like chumps and being called traitors."

"As I recall, it was _you_ who shot them down, Captain Snow. They were supposed to be the best pilots in our air force back then. How did you even manage that?" Clown spoke up, looking curiously at Snow, who has an awkward smile on his face right now as he nervously glances at us back and forth like he's asking: _Help me out, guys!_

"They were flying in training jets at the time, right Captain?" Pops cut in, "Captain Snow told me that those deserters were easy pickings because those training jets were no match for his F-14."

Knocker stared at Snow like he's not sure whether to be angry or impressed that he managed to 'shoot us down', but eventually he sighed and just raise his glass at him.

"Well, training jets or not, taking down the Razgriz pilots is no easy feat. I suppose you would be proud of that."

"What did you tell your boss back then, Captain? 'You'd better give me a medal for this later!', right?" Pops joked.

The funniest thing is, yes, he _actually did get one._ Snow got one shiny medal for something he never actually did while we never get anything for all the hard work we've done throughout the war. Hooray.

"Here's to the Razgriz pilots, then. The finest pilots our country has ever known…until I come along, of course!" Trigger raised his glass as we all did the same. Heh, someone's not being very modest.

"I used to tell stories about the Demons of Razgriz to my son all the time, you know?" Jaeger added, "They really were legends back then."

"Is there _anything_ you won't tell your son about, _dad_?" Count remarked, which earned him a playful smack from Húxiān and a chuckle from Jaeger.

"To be honest, they inspired me to become a pilot in the first place. I always wanted to be a great pilot like them." Húxiān said.

"Well, wherever they are right now, I'm sure they'll appreciate that you thought so, Knocker." Bartlett laughed as he glanced at us with a mischievous grin.

I could tell from the looks on my friends' faces that they were trying so hard not to smile right now. Hell, even I struggled not to grin as well. It's so ironic and frustrating that we – the Demons of Razgriz pilots – are right in front of those guys yet being unable to tell them who we really are.

"So yeah, about my first question," Trigger began, "which squadron did you fly in the last war?"

I stayed silent. None of my friends knew what to answer, and Trigger was staring at us with a suspicious expression. We must've been acting a bit too unusual earlier.

"8492nd!" Nagase suddenly blurted out, prompting me and my friends to simultaneously choked on our drinks, "We…we were flying in the 8492nd Fighter Squadron!"

Trigger was taken aback by her answer. To be honest, everyone did, even us.

"8492nd? What kind of squadron was that? I never heard of them before." Trigger asked.

"It's a reserve squadron, nothing important really." I said, lying through my teeth with whatever crap I came up with at the moment, "We flew in a few combat sorties if I recall. The first time was in Operation Wisdom, defending Apito International Airport when the Yukes launched a surprise attack, and later in Operation Desert Arrow. We were assisting our tank battalions to capture the Yuke airfield and oil refinery in Jilachi Desert."

"Yeah, it was pretty hot over there," Grimm quickly added, "I was sweating all over my cockpit!"

"Operation Desert Arrow, huh?" Clown nodded, "If I remember correctly, the Yukes somehow managed to bring a battleship into the battlefield, right?"

"Y..yeah. Absolute madlads, every single one of 'em." I said, resisting a cheeky smile. Of course, I had no idea what I was talking about. I vaguely remember flying in some operation with the word "Desert" in its name but I can't exactly remember what it was.

Chopper, I know you're laughing at me from above, you motormouth. You and your stupid coin toss.

"How the hell did they even manage to haul a freaking _battleship_ into the middle of a desert without anyone noticing?" Avril noted, "Seriously, the Osean intel are pretty useless if you ask me. They can't tell where your enemies are until they're right on top of you."

"You can say that again." Knocker agreed. Count, Trigger, and Brownie sighed in agreement.

"So, what happens after that?" Jaeger asked.

"We…kinda didn't fly again until near the end of the war, really." I said, "The Osean forces already surrounded Cinigrad. By all accounts, we already won the war…at least until President Harling came back and revealed the truth to us that the Belkans were behind everything. We went to assist the coalition forces in assaulting the Grey Men's base in Sudentor. Apparently, some crazy bastards flew into the tunnel there and destroy the targets inside them, and the battle's over."

"Pilots flying into the tunnel? Now we're talking." Count said enthusiastically, "I thought Trigger and I were the only ones who could pull it off."

"Please, anyone can do it these days. It's not even that hard." Bartlett said, "In fact, I think we should put it into basic training course: any decent pilot should be able to fly through a tight, enclosed space at least once in their lives."

"Hey, not everyone can be as good as you!" Count retorted.

"He has a point, you know?" Trigger grinned, "You never know when you'll need to fly into a tunnel or two during sorties. It's a great skill to have, that's why you should keep practice it. Remember that stunt I pulled at Roca Roja?"

"Yeah, but you're already a nutcase, Trigger. What sane person would fly through a tunnel on a whim!?"

"Not to mention your first flight with us at Snider's Top," Húxiān added, "Like _holy shit_ , Trigger! I saw with my own eyes that you flew into those gaps in the marine platforms and destroy the core pillars within them, _multiple_ times! Even Wiseman couldn't do that!"

"Certainly an interesting way to introduce yourself to your new squadron, I'd say," Jaeger said,

"Wow, Trigger. I know you're good, but this is a whole another level of awesome." Brownie spoke in awe, "I really wish I could be as good as you."

"What can I say? Just doin' my job." Trigger smiled, before turning to Clown and Knocker and nodded at them.

"Alright, Blaze, you and your friends had your fun." Trigger announced with a large grin on his face, "Now tell us the _real_ version, please."

Wait, what?

"I mean, nice try with the story, really. Gotta hand you that," Clown said, "But you got the names of the operations wrong. The mission to defend Apito International Airport was actually Operation Emerald. Operation Wisdom was the one about the nerve gas attack in Bana City. I know because I was there. I was part of the squadron dispatched to disperse the gas while you guys were dealing with the attack on Apito Airport."

Before I had a chance to counter, Knocker continued:

"Also, that mission in Jilachi Desert where that Yuke battleship showed up? That was actually Operation Desert _Blitz_ , not Desert Arrow," He explained before chuckled, "I was flying one of the allied planes back then. Had a chance to see you guys in action yourselves. I was just wondering why your voices sounded familiar, it's because I've heard them before."

Just my luck, the two guys I've talked to just so happened to be those that I've already crossed paths with yet I never realized it. It's easy to forget that we weren't fighting alone in the battles back then.

"And the only way you could know about the Grey Men is because you're aware of their conspiracy weaving behind the war all along," Trigger added, "My good friend Avril here crossed paths with a Belkan scientist and…what was his name again?"

"None of your business, dumbass," Avril said, "But yeah, I had a chance to talk with him and he told me all about the Grey Men and their attempt to sow conflict in the last war. It's not exactly common knowledge, you know? The only way you could know about it is that you actually knew all along that they existed."

"You said you were at Sudentor. You knew about the Grey Men. You knew that someone flew into the tunnel to destroy the targets in it, _and_ Bartlett described you guys as 'big deal pilots' like he had seen firsthand what you're capable of," Trigger continued, "It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together."

I glanced around looking at my friends, who just sighed in surrender, while Bartlett just chuckled with a stupid grin on his face.

"Told ya, kid. They'll figure it out sooner or later."

Something tells me this was probably what he wanted all along. Hell, that's probably why he brought us here in the first place!

Well, at least the only people who knew the truth are those guys, and they seem to be decent enough fellows.

"I think it's time we tell them, Blaze." Nagase said, "After all these years, I don't think anyone's going to care anymore who we really are, plus it's nice to be acknowledged for real after so long."

"I agree, Captain!" Grimm added, "Especially since we're all ace pilots, right? It's not every day you get to meet and exchange our stories with others who are like us."

"Yeah, I always wondered what you guys have been through before I joined you as well," Snow said, "You never really tell me much about back then."

"It's your call, Blaze," Pops said, "Speaking from experience, a pilot's life can become more meaningful when they find others that they can talk to as equals. It could give you new perspectives in life that you might come to appreciate later."

Heh, somehow I think deep down, Pops was finding all this somewhat amusing for him. After all, he _is_ the Belkan top ace in incognito, a fact that so very few people are aware of. In a way, I and my friends are in his shoes right now.

Except there's nobody to hunt us. No war, no conspiracy, no one that we need to hide our past from.

I suppose it's alright.

"Well, Trigger, you won. Looks like you and your friends will get to know the _real_ Razgriz, after all," I began, trying to think of the best way to start my story. Heh, I wish Genette was here.

"So, you see, nine years ago, there was this distant island called Sand Island. Most of us were stationed there: me, Nagase, Grimm, and this guy called Chopper…we're all Bartlett's nuggets in the Wardog Squadron. Our first flight together was in pursuit of an unidentified stealth plane. A simple mission, really. Just track the plane down and force it to land. Nothing too exciting."

Strange, it felt like déjà vu right now. This all reminded me of that day at Heierlark Air Base where Chopper told our tales to the nuggets over there. It all happened a long time ago now, but I can still remember it like yesterday.

God, how I missed that feeling.

"Well, needless to say, we got quite a lot more than what we bargained for…"


	3. Trigger - Memories

"So you really flew _into_ the SOLG to destroy it from the inside?" I asked.

"Yeah. We already destroyed the four components around it and that was supposed to be the end of it, but the superweapon still has one more trick up its sleeves," Blaze explained, "Turned out the Belkans modified it in such a way that it will continue to fly as long as its main core inside the gun barrel itself. Any attempt to destroy it from the outside was useless, so I had no choice but to fly my way through the damn thing and destroy the last core from the inside, then quickly get the hell out before its V2 payload exploded and blow me to smithereens."

"Holy hell, that was absolutely insane…just…freaking unbelievable!" Clown spoke in awe, "And you said you did all that in your Tomcat?"

"Yeah. I had to match the velocity and headings to match that of the SOLG with my big-ass wings just a few meters away from the inner walls. One mistake means I'm toast inside it. Without a doubt the hardest thing I've ever pulled off in my brief pilot life."

"Wow, I have to admit, that was pretty awesome," I told him. Even I have to concede that he took this whole 'tunnel' thing above and beyond. I may fly up the entire height of the space elevator, but this guy flew _into_ a superweapon mid-air, destroy the thing, then fly out before it exploded. If that wasn't an epic display of flying mastery, I don't know what is.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again," Snow said, "Blaze, you're the Ace of Aces."

"You're too kind, Captain Snow," Blaze replied as he shook his head a little, "But I'm not. Really. I'm sure there are others who could do what I did, and one of them is sitting in front of me."

Blaze turned to look at me, smiling a little as he did. I can't help but grin a little as I nodded back as a thank you. Being complimented, hell, being _acknowledged_ by the Demon of Razgriz himself is a once in a lifetime honor. Blaze and his friends' legendary exploits were inspirations for most of us, after all. I, Brownie, Húxiān, Clown, Knocker, hell, maybe even Wiseman, we all look up to them when we joined the OADF. Being acknowledged as an equal by one of them is the greatest praise I could get.

"Alright, guys. Have fun. I'm going out for a smoke. Be back in a bit." Bartlett said, "Clown, Knocker, you both comin'?"

"Right with ya, boss," Knocker replied. He and Clown followed him outside the bar.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few minutes later, everyone formed up their own groups. Avril was chatting with that old guy Pops a table next to the entrance. Sitting at another table beside them were Jaeger, Snow, and Grimm, who continued to share their war stories with each other as they ordered some food to eat. Meanwhile, Húxiān and Count were playing a board game together at a table not far away.

I didn't expect to see Brownie and Nagase sitting together separately from the rest of the group. They were chatting together at a table on the far end of the room, next to the stairs to the upper floor. Throughout the evening, I noticed that Brownie had been _really_ uncomfortable whenever a war topic is brought up, and it really seemed like she's trying to avoid conversations.

And then there's her argument with Avril earlier. She seemed pretty upset when Princess Cossette's name was brought up. It's like she's personally blaming her for starting the war that resulted in her getting shot down by Mister X. She already mentioned to me earlier that the experience left her quite shaken, though she didn't expand up on it more. I guess getting shot down back then left quite a nasty scar on her. Can't say I blame her.

I wanted to say that I could understand why she feels like that, but do I really? I've never getting shot down before, and I don't exactly have a moment where I'm terrified out of my mind, unable to do anything as death stared me in the face. One of the drawbacks of being too good, I suppose. You never truly know fear because you just know that you'll make it out of anything.

At least, not the fear for _my own_ safety, I suppose. The safety of my friends, on the other hand…

"So, I guess everyone's having a good time," Blaze began. He was the only one still sitting at the bar with me, observing everyone else in the room, "I haven't said it properly yet, but I wanted to thank you for saving my wife's life."

"Just doin' my job," I replied, "Your wife is very lovely, Blaze. You're very lucky to have her."

"Heh, don't let her looks fool you. She _can_ be pretty fierce at times," Blaze jokingly said, "Don't let her know that I said that, though. I still value my life."

"Hahaha,"

We ordered new drinks from the bartender: a young blonde-haired lady, probably in her early thirties. I didn't get a good look at her face because I didn't to be caught staring, but something about the lady feels pretty familiar, even though I'm pretty sure I've never met her before.

Ah well, it's probably nothing.

"You know, it just occurred to me. I've never got to know your real name, Trigger." Blaze said.

"Well, I don't think your friends have called you anything other than Blaze as well."

Blaze laughed, "It's just how my friends rolled with it. Nagase always insisted on calling me Blaze. It's just her thing, and pretty much everyone followed suit. I can barely remember the last time someone called me by my real name now."

"Heh, with a name like Blaze, I could see why you rarely go by your real name anymore," I told him, "For me, it's just kind of an unspoken rule among my friends. In my old flight, Clown and Knocker would often tell us to keep things as simple as possible. You got a memorable nickname you can address your buddies both during sorties and on the ground? Then use them so we won't ever forget your friends' names. It's how we always addressed each other by our callsigns most of the time. Apparently, it sticks with the other squadrons I've joined up as well if Count, Jaeger, and Húxiān are any indication."

"So you just stick with Trigger, right?" Blaze asked. It was meant to be a simple question, but I can't help but chuckle a bit at his phrase. It reminded me of an infamous catchphrase my old friend in Spare Squadron came up with:

_Stick with Trigger and you'll make it!_

Heh, freaking Tabloid.

"I guess you could say that."

Soon, the lady bartender brought our drinks. We took a quick sip before I decided to ask something about Blaze's past.

"If I may ask, Blaze, throughout your whole ordeal in the last war, was there any moment where you feel like you're losing your mind with the things you've been through? Like you've hit rock bottom and couldn't take it anymore with all that pressure?"

"When was I not?" Blaze said with a bitter smile on his face, "I was a nugget fresh out of flight academy back then, forced to take charge of my squadron to defend our nation from a surprise enemy attack just after my squadron leader was shot down. Then just when I get the hang of it, one of my best friends ended up _dead_ , I and my friends were declared traitors and had to flee for our lives as the country we dedicated our lives defending tried to kill us. How could I not be terrified?"

"I see. Well, I'm glad you made it through all that with your body and your sanity intact," I said, "Some people weren't so lucky."

"What? You're my therapist now?" Blaze chuckled, "Why did you ask me this, anyway? Something's bothering you?"

"Nah, it's not me…it's just…"

I gestured to the lady sitting with Blaze's wife at the far end of the room. I could see Brownie starting to smile again as she chats with Nagase, but I could still see some hints of depression on her face. Blaze followed my gaze and nodded in understanding.

"Her name's Brownie, right? I heard you two were very close back when you flew together."

"Yeah, but we're not together like _that_." I replied, can't help but be amused by Blaze's implied assessment of our relationship, "She's more like my sister, to be honest."

"Hmm, interesting," Blaze said as he took another sip of his glass, "I envy you, Trigger. Everywhere you go, you seem to run into pretty ladies all around."

"May I remind you that you already have a wife, mister?"

"I'm just kidding!" Blaze said sheepishly, "Anyway, is there anything about Brownie that I should know?"

"She…was shot down early into the war," I explained, "In our third sortie, we were caught in a battle with an Arsenal Bird over Chopinburg. It deployed dozens of drones to overwhelm us. Brownie's plane was shot but she can still fly, even managed to take out another drone in the process. She insisted that she's still in the fight, but Knocker didn't see it that way. He ordered her to fly back to the base with one escort plane while we held off the enemy drones."

"Let me guess, something went wrong on their way back?"

"Yeah," Even if it's been several months since that day, I still remember every detail like it happened yesterday. How could I forget? "Brownie and her escort come under attack from an enemy ace. I didn't learn until much later that it was the top Erusean ace himself, Mister X. He quickly shot down her escort plane, then toyed with her as she pleaded desperately for anyone to help her."

Blaze listened quietly, though I can see that he's deeply troubled by what I told him. Nevertheless, I continued. It would not be right to stop the story now even if it's not something I wish to be reminded of as well.

"She said she was like prey, waiting to be eaten by that predator who's stalking her, waiting for the perfect shot. Everyone else was too far or too occupied to go help her, even me. She was all alone out there. No help. No hope. She was screaming into the radio for help when Mister X finally shot her down. The only reason she survived was because of Mister X figuring out that there's no challenge in killing a defenseless target, or so he had told me."

"That's…that's terrible," Blaze finally said, sadness in his voice, "I'm sorry that both of you had to go through something like that."

"Yeah, it's definitely not something either of us could forget anytime soon. I had it easy compared to her, though. She told me that she'd probably never bring herself to climb into a plane's cockpit ever again."

I paused for a moment, sighed, and then I just smiled grimly at the thought of all these nightmares, "Well, at least she made it out alive and unharmed. I guess that's all that matters in the end."

"If it's any help, Trigger, you're not the only one going through this," Blaze said, " I still remember all those nuggets that died defending Sand Island from the Scinfaxi because some asshole back at the base forced them into battle. My good friend Chopper who lost his life defending November City. I still dread to think about it even if it's been more than nine years now."

"You know what's sad? I kinda got used to losses now," I admitted, "I thought I lost Brownie. I actually lost Harling. Then I proceeded to lose most of my friends in Spare Squadron, and finally, I couldn't protect Wiseman and Wit. Everyone I fly with, they're most likely to end up dead. And I hate it that I could come to term with it so easily."

"It's one of the brutal realities of war: no matter how good you are, you couldn't protect everyone. Sometimes you have to accept that your friends might not come back alive."

Blaze sighed as he drank the rest of whiskey in his glass. Despite being almost a decade my senior, I've just realized at this moment how young he actually looked. For all Blaze had achieved, he's still technically the same newbie pilot who got in way over his head and somehow managed to make it through it alive, just like me and Brownie. We went through hell and back, and it's obvious we brought something back with us – something that won't allow us to really have a good night's sleep.

"I just…" I began, "I just wish that I could find a way to cheer her up. It saddens me to see Brownie like this."

"Well, you can always put your trust in Nagase. If there's anyone who could cheer her up, it would be her," Blaze reassured, "Believe me, she's ever the optimist."

"Heh."

After what feels like an eternity, it looked like this cozy bar's brighten up again after mine and Blaze's depressing episode. Or maybe it's just the alcohol kicking in, I don't know. I should've paid more attention during one of Long Caster's 'fine beer and wine' classes.

"You know, I wasn't always wanted to be a pilot," Blaze began. I turned to him and frowned, curious to know more about his past.

"Yeah?"

"It's kind of embarrassing, really, but when I was really young, I wanted to be an actor."

"Really? That's a far cry from being a pilot."

"I know," Blaze laughed, "It's just that the place I grew up in is a popular filming location. Famous movie actors visit our little town often and when they do, I will always be there – trying to get their autographs."

As he said that, he shook his head a little as if acknowledging how silly his childhood is, "I used to wonder what it would be like to have that much fame, to be known and adored the whole world over, living in extravagant villas and hanging out with the elite society."

"Heh, I wouldn't even last one week with all that excess," I told him, "I'd rather go take on those drones again. Though in hindsight, even as a pilot, you _are pretty famous_ from a certain perspective."

"Funny, Nagase was saying pretty much the same thing when I told her about it," Blaze grinned, "I was young, and our family wasn't exactly well-off. Wishing for a better, more fulfilled life made sense. For a time, trying to become an actor was my only career goal."

"Well, obviously it didn't work out. What happened?"

At this point, Blaze's smile faded. "Our family's financial situation's gotten worse. I was about nine back then. My dad made a bad investment and we almost went broke. He had no choice but to dust off his military skills and work as a mercenary to gain more money. It was around 1995 back then."

"1995?"

It took me a minute until I managed to make the connection.

"Don't tell me that your dad fought in…"

"The Belkan War, yes." Blaze finished the sentence for me, "He fought as a mercenary for one of the small countries that were invaded by Belka back then. I didn't know much detail, though. Dad didn't really tell me much about what he went through during the war. The money he sent back did keep our family afloat, though, so I didn't ask much."

Blaze paused for a moment, as if hesitant to continue the story further, but eventually he relented:

"He disappeared right after the war ended, never to come back home," He told me, his voice filled with regret, "Nobody knew where he went off to, only that he transferred all the money he earned during the war into our bank account before he went off the grid."

"I'm sorry to hear that…"

Blaze shook his head a bit, "That guy was never really that close to us anyway, so it didn't bother me very long. Hell, my mom even thought that he ditched her for some foreign girl and tried to convince me as such. Well, life goes on and I went into high school and began pursuing my acting career…until something caught my interested."

"And what's that?"

"You ever heard of Brett Thompson? He's a reporter who produced this cool documentary titled _Warriors and the Belkan War._ I found a copy of the video and, out of curiosity, I decided to watch it."

" _Warriors and the Belkan War?_ That name's pretty familiar. I think I might've watched it once or twice during my flight academy days. Isn't it about some legendary ace pilot during the Belkan War?"

Suddenly, something clicked in my head.

Blaze's father was a mercenary fought in the Belkan War. That documentary chronicled around a mysterious mercenary ace pilot who inspired fear and admiration from his enemies before he disappeared without a trace at the very end of the war.

It can't be…

"Well, I suppose you could understand why my life turned a 180 after that. I ended up joining OADF as soon as I finished high school just for this one purpose." Blaze said.

"So what you're saying, you think your dad might be…"

"The one and the only. The Demon Lord of the Round Table."


	4. Avril - Legends of the Skies

God, it's been a long time since I enjoyed a good drink.

Back in the days, my gramps and his war buddies would often have drinking nights in one of scrapyard's hangar after we all finished our work during the day. I was still just a teenager back then, so my gramps didn't really let me drink too much. Heh, I used to snark back at him and complained that he needed someone sober enough to drive all of them back home after they're all wasted, even if deep down I know that he did it for my own good.

Well, now that I'm old enough to drink and gramps' not here to stop me, I can drink all I want. No one can take this night away from me.

"You shouldn't drink too much of that stuff, you know?"

…except this guy, apparently.

Peter N. Beagle, or as the Razgriz pilots preferred to call him, "Pops", gave me a disapproving look. According to the story Blaze told us, he's apparently the mechanic for the Razgriz pilots who actually turned out to be a Belkan top ace who defected from his country during the Belkan War. This guy must have some pretty interesting war stories to tell.

"You sound like my granddad," I complained, "Come on, it's not like I do this every night. Besides, I think I deserve a good booze after getting through all that craziness in the war."

"Well, you're not wrong," Pops admitted, "Forgive me, it's just old habits kicking in. I stopped drinking ever since I joined the air force. Alcohol's not good for flyboys like myself, after all."

"I don't see you making a fuzz to other pilots about it," I gestured to basically everyone else around the room.

Pops laughed, "It's not like they're in a hurry to fly again anytime soon, and they all seem to know what they're doing."

"And you think I don't?"

"Well, you did mention that you wanted to become a pilot earlier," Pops said, "You might want to dial down your drinking if you decide to become one in the future."

Hmm, did I really tell him that? I couldn't exactly remember. Looks like I was drinking a bit too much, after all. My memory's getting blurry.

"Heh, my gramps would never let me. Ever since my dad was killed in the last war, he lost faith in our country's air defense. He said that he didn't want me risking my life fighting for a nation that doesn't care about its soldiers, and from what I've been through so far, there's nothing to suggest that he's wrong about that." I explained as I gestured to my still limping right leg.

"Yet you still long to get up to that wide, open sky," Pops said, "I know that look in your eyes, Avril. That look of pure wonder when Blaze was telling his story about his flying days. I used to have that same look myself."

Touché, old man.

"I _wanted_ to fly. It was my lifelong dream to go up there," I admitted, "It's just that I don't want to get myself killed doing it. I can't fly, not when all people ever do up there is killing each other."

"As long as there is conflict, nowhere is safe. In the air or on the ground, it doesn't matter," Pops said, "Even if you don't want to get involved, the conflict _will_ find itself to you one way or another. Wasn't that how you got landed in the 444th in the first place?"

"Heh, don't remind me," I said bitterly, "I spent more than eight years trying to restore my plane. It was me and my gramps' pride and joy before he died. Just when I was able to finally get it to fly, some asshole shot me right out of the sky. It's a miracle that all I got was this broken leg. Stupid Oseans…"

"Didn't you install the IFF in your plane?"

"Couldn't find one nearby in the scrapyard I'm from," I said, "And I didn't think it was necessary. I was just going for a quick flight before I land. I wasn't expecting to run into an Erusean drone and that stupid F-15!"

"And why didn't you radio the Osean fighter to tell them that you're not a threat?"

"…I didn't have a radio in my plane, either."

"Well, now. You went up there flying a bucket that has no effective way of communication and no means to identify yourself as an ally to other planes in contested airspace. Is it any surprise that you got shot down?" Pops gave a small, cheesy smile.

I sighed loudly, unable to come up with some retort. As much as I hate to admit it, Pops was right. It was my mistake to fly that plane without radio or the IFF installed.

After a moment of silence, Pops decided to pour me another glass of whiskey. I turned to look at him, confused. Pops just gave me a small smile as he nodded in permission. Heh, it's as if I'm talking with my granddad again.

"Next time, learn Morse code," He suggested, "You can use signal lights on your plane to communicate if you can't use your radio. Captain Snow can give you some advice on that. It can save your life."

"Heh."

Morse codes. Why didn't I think of that?

Both of us took a sip of our drinks before I continued.

"You know, deep down, I always envy those guys," I began, glancing around at my pilot friends around the room, "Despite everything they've gone through, all the dangers and life-threatening stuff they got themselves into, they still get to be up there, soaring that dark blue sky above with their freedom and nothing to hold them back, while I could only watch them from down here with my broken leg. I wanted to be up there with them. I wanted to be there when Trigger pulled his stunts like the dumbass he is so I could make sure he doesn't get himself killed. Anything's better than being stuck here on the ground."

"I know this might sound a bit odd, but there are certain charms in fighting for your life out there in the sky," Pops noted, "Being a military pilot is hazardous for your health, this I admit. Still, I wouldn't trade it for anything if you ask me."

"Huh, I never expected you to be the type who gets a kick out of near-death experiences."

"What? Because I'm old?" Pops laughed again, "I _was_ a pilot in the Belkan Air Force, you know?"

Something tells me that this guy would get along really well with my grandpa and his war buddies.

"You remind me of another old guy I know. He was a crazy ass pilot just like you who fought in this war."

"Oh, you mean Mister X? He's still in active service after all this time? That tough son of a gun!" Pops' eyes brighten up as he spoke the name of the feared Erusean top ace. I was taken aback for a moment.

"You know about Mihaly?!" I asked. This should be interesting.

"We used to go way back!" Pops said excitedly, "It was all the way back in the seventies, if I remember. I was still flying for the Belkan Air Force."

I heard a lot of stories about the mighty Belkan Air Force. If I get my history right, Belka was the first nation in the world to form an independent air force and up until this day, still remains one of the best. I wouldn't be surprised if many nations look up to them for examples.

"Back then, Belka and Erusea were close allies. Both countries had the same idea in mind: expanding their territories to the furthest horizons," Pops continued, "I was quickly getting recognition for my actions during the eastern campaign, leading my nation to victory over several smaller countries and allowing Belka to annex them into their own territory. Erusea was hoping that having a mighty air force would help them do the same as well, so they requested someone to train their pilots, and I was chosen."

"And that's when you met Mihaly?"

"You could say that," Pops said sheepishly as he used his right arm to massage the back of his neck, "I was leading a bunch of Erusean pilots into a nation named Shilage. It was supposed to be over in less than a day. Shilage was a small nation with barely any defensive force of their own, plus they were still recovering from a revolutionary war a few months earlier. They couldn't hope to stand against the might of the Erusean Military. Except it wasn't that simple. Somehow, the Erusean forces were quickly wiped out one by one by some unknown ace pilot who just wouldn't go down no matter what we throw at him. Someone who's flying a plane with orange wingtips. Eventually, I had to join the fight myself."

"Let me take a wild guess: that was Mihaly."

Pops nodded, "He fought valiantly and ferociously. I observed how he flies from afar: he tracked his opponents from below and strike them where they least expect it, every enemy he fought went down with one missile shot, and he never missed his mark. The guy's extremely talented, but I can see that he's a bit cocky with all the extreme maneuvers he pulled. Despite going up against an enemy that vastly outnumbered him, he seemed to show no sign of fear in his flying."

"Sounds like he gave you a good fight."

"We fought for almost an hour over the skies of Shilage: me in a Fishbed and him in a Draken. He used the sun to his advantage by flying toward it to blind me momentarily. I managed to counter this by sticking very low to the ground, almost near surface level. The guy is good at tracking targets from below, so I went even lower and took his advantage away. " Pops smiled as he reminisced the memory of his battle with Mihaly. I found myself getting carried away by his tale just like I did with Blaze's story earlier. I just couldn't get enough of listening war stories of these ace pilots.

Damn it, why couldn't I have a story of my own as well?

"So, who won?" I asked, my voice barely contained my excitement.

"It was a draw, actually," Pops grinned, "He eventually managed to get one good missile hit on my plane but I didn't go down. I'm guessing that it shocked him so much to see that I was still flying that he started to make mistakes. After that, I managed to stay on his tail and get some potshots at his left wing with my machine gun as it was obvious that I couldn't hit him with my missiles. Before I could shoot him down, however, the Erusean Air Force told me to withdraw as their forces had already taken over the entire country. Turned out our little fight was just the diversion they needed to keep the Shilagian ace occupied. By the time Mihaly realized what happened, he literally was the last man standing in the defense of his nation. I had to radio him myself to convince him to surrender. He really was serious about going down fighting."

"Holy shit. You old aces are insane." I spoke in awe, "So what happened next?"

"About a month later, after Shilage was properly annexed into Erusea, the nation decided to conscript more pilots to replace those that were lost during their expansion campaign. That was when I met Mihaly face-to-face for the first time," Pops explained, "I didn't even realize he used to be royalty, the one in the line of succession to become the King of Shilage, in fact!"

"Must have given you quite a shock, right? I mean, when was the last time you saw an actual king personally led his soldiers into battle himself?"

"Exactly. He earned my respect the moment he told me about his royalty status. Back then, most of the pilots in the Belkan Air Force were said to be descendants of royal knights of old, myself included. You could say we were knights of the skies if you're feeling dramatic. Mihaly A. Shilage would fit among us nicely if he was a Belkan."

"Now I'm beginning to understand why you Belkans hold so high opinions of yourself, no offense."

"Heh, none taken. I admit it's something of a fatal flaw for most of my people: we simply refused to accept defeat even if it's staring at us right in the face. Look how that turned out for my country." Pops agreed, "Mihaly himself, on the other hand, refused to be addressed by his royalty status at all. He insisted on everyone treating him like a normal person, which is fine by me."

"Yeah, he mentioned that to me a few times. He hates it when anyone calls him 'King'."

"That's him alright," Pops nodded, "Anyway, after he joined the Erusean Air Force, he specifically requested to train under me. He wanted to know how I managed to survive being shot by his missile. I told him that it's because I maneuvered my plane in such a way that when the missile hit, it was in a non-critical area, so I was able to remain flying. I taught him that skill myself. Eventually, he became one of my top students and a friend until the day I went back to Belka."

 _That sneaky old bastard!_ I thought to myself. _So that's where he got that skill from! Trigger would love to know this._

"So, how's that old geezer nowadays? I haven't contacted him again ever since I defected from Belka and faked my death. It's been decades now." Pops asked.

"Well…" I hesitated for a moment. I really didn't want to tell Pops that his former student is now a broken man confined to a bed and can only wait to die, but what else could I say? Lying to Pops about his fate would be a disrespect to both men, "He…he was shot down by Trigger near the end of the war. He survived but ended up a cripple, and now he spent his days taking care of his granddaughters in Shilage. A sad life, maybe, but at least he gets to live out the rest of his days in peace."

"I see," Pops sighed, "That stubborn idiot is always trying to push himself too hard. He was starting to show his age the last time I saw him. I told him to retire before he did something he would regret. Guess he didn't take my advice after all."

"Well, you said it yourself, didn't you? There are certain charms in fighting for your life out there in the sky. I guess Mihaly's not that different from you."

"Heh, maybe you're right," Pops smiled, "That big, blue sky has a way of enticing you to come back to it. Even now I still find myself getting back up there every once in a while."

"I wish I could," I said in a bitter voice, my face lowered as reality decided to check in on me, "Listening to all you guys' stories, it really makes me wish I could be up there doing something interesting for once. I know that I said I didn't want to risk my life earlier, but truth be told, I don't think it mattered anymore. If even that pretty princess got to jump from the tallest structure in the world while being shot at by drones, what's flying a jet fighter compared to it?"

Maybe it's just the amount of all that alcohol I drank in that made me say all this, but I really believed I actually meant everything I said. Why the hell would I foolishly risk taking an old bucket of a plane that didn't even have a radio up there and got myself into this whole mess in the first place?

Mister X, Huckebein the Raven, the Heroes of Razgriz, the Pilot with the Three Strikes: they didn't become legendary ace pilots by sitting on their asses doing nothing all day, they go up there and live out the great life in that borderless dark blue sky.

I belong up there.

Pops gave me a warm smile. Now he _really_ reminded me of my gramps, "I know a guy. Used to be a former Belkan ace just like me, but now he works as a civilian flight instructor in North Osea. I could introduce you to him if you're still interested. He'd teach you everything you need to know to become a great pilot."

"You're too kind, Pops," I smiled, "I might consider it once I sort my life out. I still have to figure out what I'd do after all that mess during the war."

"Take all the time you need," Pops replied, "Also, if by any chance you recover what remains of your grandpa's plane, let me have a look at it. Perhaps I could still find a way to piece the thing back together."

"I…"

"Hey, I used to be a personal mechanic for the Razgriz pilots, you know? I know how to fix things. You can trust me on this."

For once in my life, I was completely speechless. I couldn't even come up with a proper thank you until a big while later. The mighty Scrap Queen, humbled at last.

This guy is the best drinking buddy I've ever had, goddamn it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, surprise! Mihaly and Pops (aka Huckebein the Raven) knew each other! Two old legendary aces from two continents meeting each other in a battle. The idea sounds pretty awesome in my head. I planned for their encounter to have taken place during the 1970s in the AC timeline. According to Acepedia, Belka began their expansion into neighboring countries around that time, and while much of Erusea's history is not known, I'm assuming that they took after Belka's example and expand themselves as well. The two countries' lores could fit each other pretty well.
> 
> Also, I expanded a bit on Avril's personality and her motivation. I always thought that PA not making her one of our wingmen in AC7 was a colossal waste. Despite all that buildup in the opening about her becoming a pilot, she actually never becomes one, and I was pretty disappointed by that. At least in my vision, maybe she could finally get that chance. ;)


	5. Brownie - Regrets and Acceptance

They say alcohol helps to keep your painful memories away. Bullshit, I’d say.

Maybe it’s because I can’t hold my liquor, or maybe I’m really that messed up, but after the third glass, I started hearing that dreadful sound again.

_MISSILE MISSILE MISSILE MISSILE_

“…Brownie?...”

I was back in that nightmare again, with that monster with the orange wingtips…

_MISSILE MISSILE MISSILE MISSILE_

“…Brownie!”

Nagase’s voice shook me back to reality. She looked at me with a concerned expression.

“..I…I blacked out again, didn’t I?” I said in a sad voice, “I’m sorry, Miss Nagase. It’s just...some personal issues, don’t let it worry you.”

“You can just call me Nagase, Brownie. I don’t mind,” Nagase said kindly, “And it’s okay if you tell me about it, you know? I know that look, Brownie. It’s something you went through during the war that’s troubling you. I used to have that look myself.”

Ah, I guess there’s no hiding this from her then. Curse me and my stupid weak-willed mind.

I took a deep breath, trying to focus my mind to prepare myself to delve back into the past I tried to lock behind once again.

“Trigger mentioned earlier that I was shot down early into the war, right?” I began, “We were…we were flying as a part of a two-edged strategy plan, taking Eruseans by surprise from two sides. The Arsenal Bird derailed that plan by annihilating our forces. I was hit by a missile launched from a UAV…and then…”

At this point, I stopped. Every time I think back to that moment, I always get chill down my spine as imaginary missile alert sounds echoed in my head. It’s like a waking nightmare that never ends.

“I was…there’s a…damn it…”

I sighed. I can’t do it. What am I even doing, anyway? Who would want to listen to my sob story?

“It’s okay. I understand, Brownie,” Nagase gave me a warm smile, “What you’ve been through…it’s not something that you can move on easily, and the pain is still there no matter how much time has passed since then.”

“It’s driving me crazy,” I admitted to her, “How am I the only one who’s like this? Why do I have to be so weak and fragile?”

“You’re not alone, Brownie,” Nagase replied, “I’m just like you. What I went through during my own war has left me memories that I would prefer not to remember, but no matter how hard I tried, I still can’t escape from them.”

“Really?”

I looked at Nagase. It’s hard to believe that this lady…the youngest person in history to become a spaceflight commander, and a former Demon of Razgriz herself. If anyone asked me, I didn’t think she would know what fear means at all. She seemed like the bravest person I’ve ever met.

“Trust me, Brownie, every soldier who has really gone through a war all have scars, and I am no exception.”

Nagase sighed as if some memories she had long locked away was coming back to her. At that moment, the confident astronaut and accomplished ace pilot I just saw moments ago were gone, there’s only a woman who was haunting by what happened in her past, just like me.

“That story Blaze told you earlier? He didn’t actually start from the very beginning,” Nagase began, “Before he became part of our squadron, I was there first, flying under Captain Bartlett in a training session at Cape Landers. Suddenly, we’re engaged with unidentified planes. The Captain and two instructors dived down to engage the enemies, but intel made a mistake. The enemy planes were actually right where I was…where all the trainees were. Four trainees were shot down almost instantly. Another two tried to escape but they couldn’t make it in time, and the two instructors who followed Bartlett didn’t survive either. There were only Captain Bartlett and Genette, his passenger in the backseat, and myself who made it back to base alive.”

“That…that must’ve been very hard for you, Nagase. I’m truly sorry.”

Nagase chuckled bitterly, “You know, I actually tried fighting them back, to prove to Captain Bartlett that I wasn’t about to run away from a fight, even taking one missile in my right wing in the process.”

“You tried to fight them back?” I asked Nagase, impressed that even as her friends were dropping like flies, she actually tried to fight them back without fear in her mind. If it was me, I would’ve freaked out the second someone has a missile lock on me.

“Well, Captain Bartlett wasn’t too happy about that,” Nagase shook her head lightly, “When I touched down, he was mad. He chastised that if I kept flying like that then I’d die real soon, so I probably didn’t do very well back then.”

“Maybe he didn’t want you to get shot down as well?” I suggested, “I mean, you are the only surviving trainee after that sortie, right?”

“Hmm, you have a point, Brownie…I never saw it that way before…” Nagase agreed, giving me a small smile as she did, “I always thought I was just not good enough at that moment.”

“At least you stayed with him and fought back,” I said, “I wish I could’ve done the same as you back then…”

“What do you mean?”

“I…I mean…”

Ah, great, walked myself right into that one. And I thought I was doing so well to avoid the topic.

I sighed again. Guess there’s no way I can avoid it this time.

“After I was hit by the UAV, Knocker ordered me to get back to base. I refused and argued with him that I could still fight, but Knocker wouldn’t have any of it. I had no choice but to retreat along with one escort. Just when we thought we were in the clear…there was…”

_The devil with the orange wingtips…_

“There was…a Su-30…preying on us from below the clouds,” I said slowly, my voice started trembling, “He got my escort almost immediately after he showed up, and then he set his sight on me...I kept trying to evade but he matched my every move, yet he still won’t open fire…it’s as if he’s toying with me…”

My body started shaking again. A chill ran down my spine and I started breathing heavily. My head’s getting blurry again.

“…I screamed…I just screamed for anyone to help…but no one’s coming…and then the missile alert started blaring. I know I was a dead woman…I won’t get out of this alive…”

I started to panic. It’s as if I’m back in that waking nightmare. I glanced around the room just to make sure that my friends were still with me, but everything seemed so blurry. I don’t know if it was all the alcohol making this up or my own fear rearing its ugly head, but I just couldn’t focus.

_Stay calm, me. Remember what Larry Foulke said: it’s all in the past._

I took a deep breath again. I could see Nagase again now. She was still looking at me with a worried look on her face. I fixated my eyes on her to focus myself.

_Nagase’s my friend. She’s here with me. Her friends are here. Trigger is here. Knocker and Clown are here. Everybody is here._

“…I…my plane was hit, but I managed to bail out in time. Trigger told me just recently that the ace pilot who shot me…the top Erusean ace himself…he decided to spare my life by deliberately aiming at a non-critical area, allowing me to bail out. Didn’t get very far, though, the Erusean patrols captured me as soon as I landed because I was too shellshocked to escape. Ended up a POW for the rest of the war. I was just released only a few days ago.”

I managed to let out a small bitter laugh. Looking back now, the Eruseans found me all curled up in a ball breaking down crying inside my own parachute. That was pretty embarrassing.

Compared to Nagase, I’m just a nobody. When _she_ was shot down, she didn’t give up fighting. She fought for her survival, even rescuing the people that _came_ to rescue her, and even managed to capture a squad of soldiers all by herself. I shouldn’t even be alive right now.

“And there you have it, my sob story,” I said. Against all odds, I somehow managed to finish it, “If only I had disobeyed Knocker and fought those drones back, I wouldn’t have gotten ambushed by that monster. If only I was brave enough back then…”

Nagase put her left hand on my shoulder gently, smiling warmly.

“That’s nonsense, Brownie,” She said kindly, “The fact that you’re able to tell all this to me is very brave of you by itself. There are more ways to show bravery than just proving yourself in battle.”

“What’s that gonna matter if I could never bring myself to fly again?” I asked, “I was shaking with fear during the plane ride from the prison camp. The only reason I made it at all was because of a good friend I’ve made holding my hand through all of it.”

“Your friend might have offered you a hand, but it’s still _your_ decision to step into that plane,” Nagase replied, “You could’ve refused. You could’ve backed out and stayed where you were, but you didn’t, and that’s what brought you here right now, finally reuniting with your friends at long last. It wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t take that first step forward. You are better than who you think you are, Brownie. Don’t let anybody, even you yourself, tells you any different.”

Nagase gave me another big smile, firmly reassuring me that she meant what she said, and because of that, I could finally smile for real.

“Thank you so much, Nagase,” I said, “You would’ve made a fine squadron leader for new trainees.”

I frowned when Nagase showed a surprised expression on her face, then she just giggled as she sipped her drink before she continued.

“Squadron leader, huh?” Nagase said, “I could never have made it as a squadron leader. I’m just too emotionally compromised for that.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, wondering why she would turn down the position. She did eventually become a space mission commander, didn’t she?

“The truth is, Brownie, I get carried away easily,” Nagase explained, “I was too shocked when Bartlett was shot down trying to protect me. When my AWACS told me to take up command, I refused because I thought I wasn’t ready to lead. I didn’t want anyone to risk my life for me, so I let Blaze take up command and vowed to defend him with my life. I told myself ‘I won’t fail Blaze like how I failed Bartlett again’.”

“Well, it seemed to have worked out between you too, right?”

“Not exactly,” Nagase replied, her expression saddened, “Even after scoring some major victories, I still can’t shake the feeling that I’m a failure away. I’ve failed Bartlett, then I failed those trainees who were shot down by the Scinfaxi’s missiles – oh, they were so much like you, Brownie.”

Nagase looked away from me like she’s ashamed of something, some past that was still haunting her up until this day.

“But…you’re not a failure at all! You’re one of the Demons of Razgriz, Nagase. You’d always rise up to any challenge no matter how difficult it is.”

“That’s the thing, Brownie. Being a Demon of Razgriz doesn’t mean we’re not human. People put us on the pedestals but they never really know how we felt like deep down. I can be vulnerable. I can make mistakes just like everybody else, and when I did, I always pin the blame on myself, always thinking that I should’ve been better. I should’ve fly faster, fight harder, end the war sooner. That’s why I got distracted easily. I ended up getting shot down and my friends had to save me, risking their own lives in the process.”

Nagase sighed. She made the same depressed expression that I just did earlier, like something triggered within her memory that she would like to forget.

“…and that’s probably why…why Chopper didn’t make it as well. The stress of… _everything_ …it’s just too overwhelming for us – we were four friends who were just lucky enough to be alive, let alone fighting back to our enemies at all. We were just supposed to be trainees, damn it.”

Nagase clenched her fists on the table. Her expressions looked pained, and now I felt bad for even bringing my own story up.

Nagase took a deep breath. For a brief moment, I thought I saw myself in her. She’s just as tormented by her past as I did. She just did a better job hiding it. I guess we might not be that different, after all.

“You are better than who you think you are,” I began. I had to say something, anything that could make her feel better. I owed Nagase that much.

“That’s what you told me, right? Even in the face of overwhelming odds and the risk of losing everything, you and your friends still fight on. You never give up, and now here you are – a war heroine who went on to become one of the most successful astronauts ever. If that isn’t inspiring, I don’t know what is.”

I put my hands on hers this time, reassuring her that everything’s going to be alright, that a friend is here for her.

“I’m gonna try, Nagase,” I told her, my voice unwavering, “I’m gonna try flying again. Maybe not as a military pilot, but I’ll fly. I won’t spend the rest of my life being stuck down here tortured by my own past. It’s going to be hard. Maybe I won’t ever move on, but I can at least try taking another step forward. You showed me that it is possible, Nagase, and I thank you for that.”

And with that, I toast another glass for the bravest woman I’ve ever met. Nagase didn’t say anything, but her relieved expression told me everything I need.

“Let’s drink to both of us, Nagase, for never giving up no matter what life throws at us.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

I decided not to push my luck and didn’t order another whiskey. I was drunk enough as it is. At least whatever’s it the drinks didn’t make me think of the bad memories that I have anymore.

Nagase was reading a book that she brought with her: _A Blue Dove for the Princess_. Other than that, I also noticed that she had a rather nice bouquet of roses placed on a vacant table next to her as well.

“Those are pretty nice flowers,” I admired, “Did Blaze bought you that?”

Nagase giggled as she closed her book, “Oh, I wish! Actually, it was from an admirer of mine when I was at the Lighthouse. She’s a florist from Yuktobania…who also happened to be a former ace pilot that I fought during the war when we still believed that we were enemies.”

“Whoa, that must’ve been quite an experience for her, finally meeting with a Razgriz pilot in a flesh,” I grinned, “She must’ve been excited.”

To my surprise, Nagase just shook her head as her smile faded.

“She felt guilty, actually,” Nagase spoke in a sad voice, “She confessed that she was the one responsible for shooting down Chopper back then…”

“Really?”

Nagase just nodded.

“I…I don’t know what to say. That must’ve been pretty awkward.” I told her, “If it were up to me, I would’ve…actually, I wouldn’t know what I would do if I was in your shoes.”

“To be fair to her, I also learned that we shot down three of her friends as well,” Nagase added, “In war, you don’t get to choose who lives or dies, Brownie. Everyone is a victim. When she shot down Chopper, I, Blaze, and Grimm were so enraged, we decimated every Yuke plane in the sky. Chances are one of those pilots that we killed that day might’ve been her Chopper, too.”

“So you just forgive her like that?”

“There’s no point in hating someone who’ve already regretted what they’ve done,” Nagase explained, “Besides, irrational hatred was what led to the war happening in the first place. If we still cling on to the hatred as those Belkan extremists had it out for us, the world would never know peace. Someone has to make the first step towards reconciliation. Heh, that’s what Harling always used to say back then.”

“You made it sound so easy,” I said, “I still cannot bring myself to forgive that Erusean princess for dragging us all into this whole mess. If she hadn’t declared war on us, none of us would be here.”

“That’s true, I won’t deny, but would making her suffer for it changes anything?” Nagase asked, “You’ve been through the war, Brownie. You know how suffering felt like. Do you want to subject what you’ve been through to others as well? To start the cycle of hatred all over again?”

“I…I probably wouldn’t…” I answered, “I mean, it’s just…I felt like she got off way too easy considering what she did to me…to us.”

“Believe me, she didn’t,” Nagase reassured, “She still has to answer for her crimes _and_ rebuild her country by herself, not to mention that she’s the only survivor of her family. Like I said, in war, everyone is a victim, Brownie, and the only true enemy you should fight against is the hatred that started it in the first place.”

“I suppose so,” I replied. One more thing I had to try to be better at, then.

Overcoming my fears? I could do it. Forgiving my enemies? That’s another story. I was always a stubborn person. At least for this case, I’m not promising anything to Nagase. I’ll give the princess a chance at the very least. I’ll see if she could redeem herself in the future days to come, and then I’ll judge. It’s true that forgiveness is the path to peace, but there are also those who wouldn’t learn from their mistakes as well, and you have to be ready should they decide to try anything again. Call me a paranoid, but it’s better to be safe than sorry, especially considering what I’ve been through.

Let’s hope that the princess will prove me wrong this time.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

“Wait, you said you are John’s sister?” That John Harvard who used to work at ONSA?”

“Yep!” I said happily, “He retired a couple of years ago, though. Said it was time for him to go pursue other things. He’s now working as an educator at the National Air and Space Museum in Oured.”

“I knew John. He’s a pretty good fellow, and an excellent astronaut, I might add.” Nagase grinned, “He used to show me the ropes when I first joined ONSA. He didn’t actually know that I was a Razgriz pilot, though, but I’ll always be grateful that he was there on the Arkbird that day. Without him, we wouldn’t be able to shoot it down and stop the Grey Men from escalating the war.”

“Hah! Now I can tease him about you when I get back home,” I grinned, “He was a very big fan of you guys. Imagine his face when he learns from me that he used to be working with a Razgriz pilot all this time and he never realized it.”

“You’re cruel, Brownie. Just kindly give my regards to John when you get back. What he taught me back then saved my life more than once while I was up there in space,” Nagase laughed, “That reminds me, you never did tell me your real name. I’ve been calling you Brownie after all this time.”

“Oh, it’s Alicia. Alicia Harvard.” I replied, “It’s kinda embarrassing, actually. My dad named me after the pilot who flew across the Ceres Ocean for the first time, while my brother John is named after the first Osean astronaut who went to space. It’s just my family’s thing. We like to be named after famous people. Weirdos, if you ask me.”

“No way, that’s actually pretty cool!” Nagase smiled, “My mother, on the other hand, decided to name me after one of my aunts. She thought it would be a good idea to confuse others when they addressed us. It was meant to be a harmless prank, but after I grew up some more, it turned out that I and my aunt look so similar to each other, we could actually pass as twins. Now the whole: “names’ the same” thing is even more ridiculous in hindsight.”

“Heh, at least your family gatherings won’t be boring.”

“Not when you have four more aunts who look and act exactly like you.”

“….wha?”

“That was a joke,” Nagase laughed again, “Ugh, I _did_ pick up some of my mom’s weird humor…”

Heh, this woman is full of surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONSA is something original that I came up with. It's Osea's space agency: the Strangereal counterpart to NASA. I intended for it to stand for "Osea National Space Administration" or ONSA, for short. ;)


	6. Swordsman - Plights of a Flight Leader

"Check and mate, Captain!"

Grimm said proudly as he cornered my king piece with his elaborate setup of knight and rook pieces.

"I give up, Grimm. You're too good at this." I waved my hands in defeat, "Chess just isn't my thing."

"I was just lucky, Captain," Grimm replied humbly, but I can tell that he felt really good that he finally find something he's better than me at last. Heh.

"My son likes to play chess as well, you know?" Jaeger added, "You would've made a good teacher for him, Grimm. You pulled quite a few good moves earlier."

"Thank you, sir!" Grimm said, "It's actually my older brother who taught me how to play chess. We used to play it together a lot when we were both in high school."

"It's been a long time since I last saw your brother, Grimm. How is he these days?" I asked.

"Still doing his part in the Osean Army, Captain." Grimm explained, "He was among one of the detachments sent to secure Tyler Island during the counterattack campaign. I was actually talking to him via a video call when the satellites went down and cut off all communications. Needless to say, I and my parents were worried sick about him."

"Ouch, Tyler Island. That was a hell on Earth if I ever saw one," Jaeger said, "When we arrived, the whole island was in complete chaos. Without the IFF system, enemies and allies alike fired on each other and even civilians indiscriminately. What was supposed to be our last safe haven was turned into a deathtrap, and we have no choice but to save who we could and take our chances elsewhere."

"Yeah, it was pretty rough. I wish I could've been there to help those guys as we did in the old days," Grimm said in a sad voice, "Luckily, my brother made it out alive and well on an Osean landing ship _Wagtail_. He said it was thanks to you guys in the LRSSG that assisted them. I guess that's one more thing I owed you and your friends for."

"Just doin' my duty, kid," Jaeger said, "And you should probably thank Trigger, not me. He's the one who did most of the work. The rest of us barely did anything. I can barely keep up with him as he tried to shoot down those shuttles launched from the mass driver."

"Heh, you and me both, Lieutenant," I told him, "Back when I and Grimm were fighting in the last war, we never really get to do anything as well. It was Blaze who got pretty much everything done. He's just that good. Hell, I think he might even steal my kills more than a few times!"

"Don't sell yourself short, Captain. Remember, without you, we wouldn't even be alive right now." Grimm reassured, "And you did teach us quite a few things after you joined our squadron. Back then, we don't even know how to land on carriers until you showed us the ropes."

"Heh. I guess there's that."

I almost forgot that Blaze, Nagase, and Grimm weren't originally from the navy. They were in air force until they were framed as traitors by that bastard Hamilton – the Osean double agent. If Captain Andersen didn't get the secret message from Pops when he did, they probably would've all been shot down by that Belkan aggressor squadron. Luckily, I was able to get there first and faked their deaths before anyone could realize what happened.

"Say, Captain Snow. I'm surprised you never returned to flying," Jaeger began, "I mean, I can understand Blaze, Nagase, and Grimm's reasons for retiring, but you seem like you'd still be doing pretty well as a fighter pilot, don't you? The LRSSG could really use someone like you in this war."

"So a man can't retire in peace these days, eh?" I joked, "It's just...ever since the _Kestrel_ sank and Admiral Andersen decided to retire, I just…can't find the motivation to go back to flying. Everything about my old life was gone and I just thought…maybe it was time for me to start over."

"The _Kestrel_ …she was one fine ship, indeed," Jaeger agreed, "I heard she served all the way back into the Belkan War, right?"

"Yeah, her first captain was a guy named Weeker. Andersen was his XO back then, while I was still just a nugget in flight academy." I explained, "It was not until five years after the war's end that I was assigned to _Kestrel_. Weeker already retired by then and Andersen took over as the captain. We never really did do anything significant up until the last war rolls around. It's either just training sorties or patrol duties again and again during my whole ten years on that ship."

I chuckled a bit as I reminisced the old times…the simpler times before my life got tangled in all that conspiracy craziness and a plot to destroy my country. Felt like such a long time ago from since then.

"I still remember this guy Thomas - one of my wingmen. He used to complain all the time that we never really get to do anything exciting. Usually, after coming back from training sorties, he would buzz through the command tower at high speed just for the hell of it, much to everybody's annoyance. Heh, that reckless jerk."

"What happened to him?" Grimm asked.

"Scinfaxi happened," I sighed, "You remember what happened in the Eaglin Straits, right? The burst missiles destroyed two of our carriers and wiped out most of our fighter squadrons. Tom was right in the middle of the blast radius of the initial attack. Poor bastard never stood a chance."

"I see. My condolences for you and your men, Captain," Jaeger said, "I could only imagine how it's like having to go through something like that."

I just nodded. Retelling stories about my old life, my old wingmen, it turned out to be a bit harder than I thought. Even though I've already moved on from their deaths, I've still known these men for most of my flight career. It just isn't something you can easily forget about.

"I still remember the faces of every single wingman that had served under me, all those men who flew with me for ten long years...all gone in the blink of an eye. The only survivors were a handful of pilots who were in reserve on the _Kestrel_ back then, and even then, fewer and fewer of them came back from further sorties as the war raged on. Eventually, I was the only one left."

"That…that must've been hard for you, captain. I'm sorry." Grimm said in a sad voice. The poor kid seemed like he's trying to come up with some way to cheer me up, but he didn't know what to say. I don't blame him. I wouldn't know what to say to myself as well if I was in his shoes.

"It happened a long time ago, Grimm," I said to reassure him, "I've already come to terms with it. Wherever my wingmen are right now, I'm sure they'd be happy to know that their sacrifices were not in vain. We managed to stop the war and brought back peace, and I think that should be enough to honor their memory. There's no use in crying over what you can't change. We should instead focus on moving on with our lives."

"Still, you think that it doesn't feel right to go back to flying," Jaeger said, "Not when there's no one up there who you're familiar with anymore."

"Pretty much, yeah," I admitted, "My former wingmen's gone, the _Kestrel_ 's gone, and my new friends decided to turn in their wings after the last war ended. There's no motivation for me to go back up there anymore, so I quit."

"So what did you do after that?"

"Believe it or not, I joined a sea salvage crew," I told him, "At first, I'm just trying to locate the wreckage of the _Kestrel_ in Ceres Ocean. When I found it, I took Andersen on a submersible dive for one last visit to the old girl. It went pretty well, to be honest."

"Aww, Captain, why did you never invite us?!"

"Well, Blaze and Nagase were enjoying their honeymoon and you were studying for your degree in Ustio, remember?" I reminded him, "Besides, the submersible could only hold just two people at the time anyway, and we don't have enough resources for multiple dives. I figured Andersen should be the one to have the honor of saying his final farewell to the old girl."

"Fair point, Captain," Grimm conceded, "Still, I really wish I could see the _Kestrel_ again. That carrier really meant a lot to us."

"That it did," I agreed. Even after all this time, I couldn't forget about the _Kestrel_. I and Andersen had been with the old girl for most of our lives, and I'd be lying if I didn't say it broke my heart to see it sinking into the sea during the last war. Ironic that after having survived almost the entire war without even a small dent in its hull, the _Kestrel_ was sunk mere hours before the war's end despite surviving for so long.

At least she gave one last hurrah: she managed to launch us out just in time, and then we went on the end the war once and for all. Her sacrifice wasn't in vain. For Andersen, he would call this the ultimate victory he's been hoping for, and that's enough for me.

"Anyway, not long after that, President Harling contacted us and offered a job," I continued, "He wanted a cleanup crew to recover the wreckages of the Scinfaxi and the Arkbird in Ceres Ocean. They both contained weapons of mass destructions and he didn't want them to fall into the wrong hands again, so I decided to help him. We recovered the laser weaponry in the Arkbird and the Scinfaxi wreckage was sent back to the Yukes, to which they promised to disarm all its ballistic missiles."

"I've heard a lot of drama surrounding the _Scinfaxi_ here in Usea. Many believed the Yukes stole the design from the _Dragonet_ -class supersubmarine decades ago." Jaeger added, "I wouldn't be surprised if all this has something to do with that giant sub we came across during this war."

"What was that all about, anyway?" I asked, "I thought those subs were supposed to be gone."

"I'm afraid that's classified for the moment, Captain," Jaeger grinned mischievously, "Tune in next time, guys!"

"Aw, come on!" Grimm groaned.

Heh, now I'm actually looking forward to it.

"Anyway, as my crew was recovering the Arkbird and the Scinfaxi wrecks, we noticed that there's a lot of ship and plane wrecks and garbage on the ocean floor. After we're done with the job, we decided to help clean up the ocean in whichever way we could. You won't believe how much stuff we dumped in it, especially during the war, and it's hurting the sea life within it."

"That's very noble of you, Captain!" Grimm said, "I'd love to join you in one of your dives if I could. I think life in the ocean could be very fascinating."

"Heh, I'll see what I can do, Grimm," I grinned, "But right now, let's talk about what's on your mind _right now_."

I gestured toward the young lady pilot talking with Nagase at a faraway table, whom I noticed that Grimm has been eyeing ever since we came into the café.

Grimm followed my gaze and suddenly, his face turned bright red, and I'm pretty sure it's not because of alcohol or lightning.

"I…it's…there's…" Grimm stuttered he glanced nervously between me and Jaeger, who's also looking at him with an amused expression on his face.

"Well, well, well, someone's crushing hard," Jaeger teased, "Should I introduce you two to each other properly?"

"NO! I mean, it's nothing!" Grimm immediately denied as he blushed even harder. I couldn't help but laugh along with Jaeger a bit before slapping on Grimm's left shoulder to reassure the poor kid.

"Just go buy her a drink!" I encouraged.

"I…I can't do this, Captain!" Grimm shook his head, "I…I don't even know how to talk to her!"

"Teach her how to play chess, then," Jaeger suggested, "Show her some cool moves!"

Before Grimm could say anything, I grabbed an unopened bottle of beer next to me and put it in Grimm's hand.

"Just be yourself, Grimm. You'll do fine." I reassured him with a smile, "I'm sure Nagase will give you some pointers."

"…I gave up. There's no dissuading you two." Grimm sighed in defeat before taking another sip of his glass, "If this goes south, I'm never touching another bottle of liquor again, ever."

And then Grimm walked off to join Brownie and Nagase at their table. I noticed Blaze and Trigger giving us playful winks from their seats across the room. I and Jaeger couldn't help but grin back at them: looks like we're not the only ones who had the same idea.

"Every lady should find someone who looks at her like how that kid looks at Brownie," Jaeger said, "Seriously, I've never seen a boy so smitten with a girl before."

"Reminds me of my own experience with my first crush during high school, to be honest," I admitted, "Don't you _dare_ tell Blaze about it, though. I have a rep to maintain, you know?"

"Heh, you sound like my former flight lead," Jaeger said, "He liked to talk about his rep as well."

"Ah, Wiseman. Used to fly with the guy many times back in the old days. He's one tough S.O.B." I said, "During mock combat training sessions between the navy and the air force, we're usually the last ones standing in the last match. We both had our fair shares of wins and losses."

"Heh, sounds like Wiseman, alright. He's never one to back down from a challenge."

"And it didn't stop in the air, either," I continued, "He usually organized friendly boxing matches in the hangars after each mock battles, much to our superior's annoyances. He always did love a good fight."

"There was this one time he raced his motorcycle alongside an F-14 taking off from the runway," Jaeger chuckled, "Damn crazy bastard."

We enjoyed a good laugh over Wiseman's antics back in the day for a while before Jaeger's smile faded away and replaced with a grim expression as reality soon check up on him.

"I missed that guy." He sighed as he took another sip from his glass.

"I heard about what happened in Farbanti," I said, "I'm sorry."

"Yeah…" Jaeger replied in a sad voice, "Despite all his craziness, you can always count on him to do his best to keep his wingmen safe, even if it puts him at great personal risk, and he finally pushed it too far. He knew he's outmatched yet he acted as bait for Mr. X anyways, and in the end, it didn't even matter. The guy managed to escape before Trigger could shoot him down."

"If it means anything, I would do the same thing if I was in his place," I said, "It's a duty of a flight leader to protect their wingmates. Bartlett disobeyed a direct order twice to protect his trainees, and he even got shot down protecting Nagase back then. If I managed to keep my wingmates safe even at the cost of my own life, then I'd say it was worth it. Wiseman probably had the same idea."

"His distraction did manage to keep us alive, I admit. Mr. X was shooting down pilots left and right before Wiseman lured him away from us. I guess he did the right thing, after all, even if it didn't end well for him."

"To Wiseman, then," I raised my glass as Jaeger did the same, "Wherever he is right now, I'm sure he's putting in a good word for us."

"Amen."

We drank our drinks in silence for a while. I glanced around the room and observed how my friends were doing. Grimm was chatting amicably with Brownie and Nagase, so it looks like our plan worked out just fine. Trigger and Blaze were still at the bar, probably one-upping each other with whatever crazy stunt they pulled during their own wars. Húxiān and Count were having a little drinking contest between themselves, with Avril and Pops cheering on. Knocker and Clown already came back in from smoking outside, but Bartlett's still out there. Looks like he's talking with someone outside. Can't make it out who it is, though.

"Poor Keith," Jaeger suddenly spoke, "It'd be hard to tell him about what happened to his father in Farbanti."

"Who's Keith?"

"Oh, Keith Bryan. He's Wiseman's boy. Good kid. He probably would get along well with my boy Erich. Has a passion for aviation just like his old man," Jaeger answered, "They were estranged, though. Ever since they divorced five years ago, Keith's mom took him back to her home country. They rarely saw each other since then. Hell, I spent more time with the kid than his own father did."

"Goddamn it, Wiseman." I mumbled under my breath. I never knew much about Wiseman's personal life, but from what Jaeger told me, he's good at being a flight leader more than being a good father.

"I'll go with you. Wiseman was a good friend of mine as well. I'll help break the bad news to him and his family," I offered. "Just tell me when and where."

"You don't have to do this, Captain. He was my flight leader. It should be my responsibility to do this."

"Don't worry 'bout it," I insisted, "As much as I hate to admit it, I'm used to doing this. When my wingmen were KIA in the last war, I'm the one who had to go inform their families about their fates. It's…the least I could do."

"Are you really sure about this?"

"Definitely. He would've done the same as me if he was in my place."

"Alright, if you insist." Jaeger sighed, "I'll tell you when and where later. For now, let's just enjoy the night and forget about those depressing stuff for the moment."

"Heh. Fair enough."

Old habits die hard, I guess. Once a flight leader, always a flight leader. When your brothers in arms go down in battles, it's your job to make sure their families take the news well, no matter how much it pains you to do so.

Because that's what leaders do.

"So, up for some drinking competition, Captain?" Jaeger challenged.

"Bring it on, _Dad_. Let's see what you're made of." I grinned as I opened another bottle of beer. Unlike chess, I'm actually in my element for this one. I won't lose this time.

Jaeger laughed as he finished the rest of the beer in his glass.

"I _definitely_ will be telling my son about this!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shout-out to the Alicorn was written before the DLC missions are released proper, so I didn't include much detail on that and had Jaeger handwaved it as 'classified info', so sorry about that guys!


	7. Count - Hidden Pasts

"Is that the best you can do!?"

Húxiān dared as she finished yet another drink, her face was bright red from all the alcohol, but her spirit still remains as high as ever.

"Goddamn it, Húxiān, you could actually give my grandpa a run for his money!" Avril spoke, impressed, "I don't think Count could keep up with you anymore."

"I don't want to admit it, but you're right." I admitted grudgingly, my eyes getting blurry from all the stuff I drank in, "Shit, Húxiān, how the hell could you drink this much without passing out!?"

"Had a lot of practice," Húxiān replied with a proud look on her face, "Back in my teenage days, I used to have drinking competitions with my neighbors all the time."

"Why would they allow teenagers to drink _this_ much?!" I asked, "This is, like, unhealthy amount of alcohol even for me."

"Told ya, it was pretty rough where I'm from," Húxiān replied,

"Where did you say you're from again, Húxiān?" Pops asked.

"Xanning, it's a city in Verusa – the country, not the continent," Húxiān explained, "Tough place to grow up, to say the least. It was right at the border between Verusa and Yuktobania. Back then, the place was disputed to hell and back. There were many times I wasn't even sure which country Xanning is belonging to at the moment."

"I never know much about Verusa. How's it like over there?" I asked. Pops and Avril nodded in agreement. Verusa – both the country _and_ the continent it's called after – has always been very secluded from the rest of the world. Despite being a world superpower that could almost rival both Osea and Yuktobania, barely anything is known about them aside from the fact that they and Yuktobania occasionally had some border disputes. That's pretty much the only thing we know for sure about them.

"It's just a shithole that I'm happy to get out of," Húxiān answered in a deadpan tone, "What else is there to know?"

"Alright, suit yourself," Avril shrugged, "Can't imagine anywhere worse than the 444th Airbase, though."

"Well, imagine Colonel McKinsey, but there are dozens more like him _and_ they're in charge of the government, then you'll get the idea." Húxiān said, "It's a wonder how the country managed to survive for so long. It should've been run into the ground by now."

"Huh, okay. It _is_ definitely worse than the 444th Airbase." I said. I shuddered to think that there are more people like that bastard McKinsey out there. I mean, I'm no saint myself, but that guy was just another whole level of dickishness that I even I won't dare to reach.

"Right, that's one more country I'll stay the hell away from, then," Avril said.

"Just when I thought my own country is pretty screwed up…" Pops noted.

"I need a freaking drink," Avril said before getting up from her chair, "I'll go fix myself up at the bar. Anyone wants anything?"

"I'll go talk with Bartlett outside for a moment," Pops said, "He mentioned that he needed my advice on something earlier."

"You go, Scrap Queen. We're good." I said. Húxiān nodded in agreement.

"Heh, want some private time, huh? Have fun, Sir Count." Avril smiled and winked at us before she walked to the bar.

What the heck did she mean by that!?

And so, I and Húxiān were left by ourselves once more. Granted, I _kind of_ wanted this. Húxiān is…someone I cared very much about and I would love to know her better, but all this wasn't really what I had in mind.

"So, Avril likes to call you 'Sir Count', huh?" Húxiān asked as she stared at me with a curious expression on her face, "How'd you come by that nickname, anyway?"

"U-ah…"

Damn it, this _definitely_ wasn't what I had in mind at all!

"It's…ah, it's just a silly story, really," I said nervously, "You know that I was thrown into the Spares because I'm a fraud, right? Well, I used to con people by pretending that I was associated with nobility."

I prepped myself in my "Count" persona like I used to do so many times back in the day. Heh, it's been a while.

"I'll have you know that I am Count Alphonso von Hogswach of Wielvakia! My father is the lord of Rachstryfe Castle and my uncle is the founder of the Axe and Hammer Industries, so you better treat me with respect or you'll find yourself looking for a new job tomorrow!"

"And people actually bought that?" Húxiān giggled, "You _certainly_ doesn't look like nobility!"

"You wouldn't believe how many people are so easily fooled these days," I chucked, "Just say the right words to the right people, act like you're the most important person in the world, and people will worship you without questions. Hell, anyone who does a simple background check would know that Rachstryfe Castle doesn't even exist. I just made that up because it sounded like something a noble would own, and I let my charming personality do the rest."

"My, my, someone isn't so humble, is he?" Húxiān smirked, "I will admit that Rachstryfe Castle sounds pretty cool, though."

"God, I still remember those idiots' faces when they realized too late how much I screwed them over," I continued, "I mean, it's an old shame now, but it's hilarious back then. Back in the day, I pretended to be a college professor, a doctor, a business tycoon, a racecar driver…Hell, even a rock star!"

"Now you're joking. You? A rock star? Can you even sing?"

"Hey, I _can_ sing pretty well, you know?!" I said, "At least I'm not making that one up."

"Alright, alright, I believe you." Húxiān replied as she punched me lightly on the shoulder, "So what happened next?"

"I pushed my luck too far," I said bitterly, "I just had to swindle someone that I shouldn't cross: a dirty politician with ties to a dangerous Yuktobanian mafia. They caught up to me, but their leader Dominic Zubov thought he could use someone like me in his syndicate, so he coerced me into joining them as a payback for crossing them earlier."

"Dominic Zubov…now that's a name I never expected to hear again," Húxiān said, her voice had a mixture of surprise and worry, "Back when I was young, he's infamous for being one of the most wanted criminals on the entire Verusa continent. Guy's capable of anything: assassination, sabotage, mercenary work. Last I heard, he ended up fighting for the Belkans during the Belkan War and was shot down, and he's been on the run ever since. Never imagine that I'd hear about that son of a bitch again. I thought he'd be dead by now."

"Heh, well, he's still alive and kicking…actually kicked me quite a few times, in fact," I continued, "Anyway, since I crossed him, he said I'd have to make up to him by working as a smuggler for the guy. In order for me to do that, he taught me how to fly a plane. Guy's still a pretty talented pilot despite his age. A lot of things he taught me has kept me alive up until this day. Hell, even having old fashioned radios in the cockpit was _his_ idea that I picked up on."

"So in addition to a con man, you moved up to a smuggler, huh?" Húxiān frowned, "Why does this sound so much like a plot to a cheesy action movie?"

"Life can be stranger than fiction, you know?" I laughed, "For three years, I smuggled whatever he needs me to across both sides of the Ceres Ocean: weapons, drugs, cars, even planes. Never stooped as low as smuggling humans or animals, though. That shit's too far."

"Holy shit, Count. Your life is freaking crazy. I thought you were just convicted of fraud!"

"Heh, I wouldn't deny that it was a pretty fun ride," I admitted, "It gets even better after I used some connections to join the OADF. Officially, I flew for them as a cargo pilot, transporting weapons, vehicles, and equipment. Off-duty, though, I used the big plane they gave me to continue my smuggling for Zubov. It was tough at first, doing this double job thing, but I was practically swimming in money after a few months."

"How the hell did you escape the OADF's notice!?!" Húxiān asked in bewilderment, "Are those guys seriously that incompetent?"

"Well, a few bribes go a long way, and yes, most of them were _that_ incompetent. They never suspected anything about my secret life even as I was smuggling high-grade military equipment from right under their noses," I explained, "You wouldn't believe just how useless our air force is. Without those like us and the Razgriz pilots, they probably wouldn't get anything done."

"Can't argue with you on that," Húxiān sighed, "How did you get yourself caught, anyway?"

"Yeah, well, about that…" I said sheepishly, "Remember when I said that I impersonated a rock star? Well, the guy I impersonated, some guy named Chad or something, somehow managed to track me down in Osea and sued me, and it all went downhill from there. Practically everyone I've ever swindled testified against me in court, and I was eventually convicted of fraud. I was dishonorably discharged and sentenced to eight years in prison, that's how I ended up in the Spares. Luckily, the court didn't find any evidence that linked me to the mafia. I'd probably never see the light of day again otherwise."

"Didn't Zubov use his connections to bail you out?"

"Nope!" I shook my head, "He just left me to rot in prison!"

"No honor among thieves, huh? I figured."

"Nah, I think he had good reasons to do that," I replied, "He probably didn't want people to get suspicious how a man who committed so many crimes like me to be able to walk away so easily. Someone would most likely suspect foul play, which could lead back to his organization. It wouldn't end well for either of us if that happened. Pretty understandable if you ask me."

"Still, it feels like a shitty thing to do," Húxiān insisted, "Ah, well, at least it got you here, so there's that."

"Heh, no kiddin'. In hindsight, getting convicted turned out to have been good for me in the long run. I ended up with the boys in Spares and eventually joined up with you guys. Can't believe how my luck turned out."

"Sticking with Trigger might have something to do with it," Húxiān said, "It's something you learned when you flew in the Spares, right?"

_Stick with Trigger and you'll make it!_

Ah, damn it, Tabloid. How I wish you could be here with me and Trigger right now. You poor sod.

"You remember the mission to Tyler Island, right? When we joined up with my old friends in the Spares? Tabloid, the guy who talked with me on the radio after Scrap Queen did, was the one who came up with that line." I explained.

"Tabloid?" What kind of name was that?"

"Dunno. He likes to read books, I guess. He was certainly the most intellectual out of all of us convicts," I replied, "Can't imagine him to be as good a pilot as he was."

"Was?"

"He…didn't make it," I said solemnly, "Avril told me that he died rescuing a girl, crushed by a falling UAV drone during the Lighthouse battle."

"I…I'm sorry. I didn't know…"

I chuckled bitterly as I drank the rest of the whiskey in my glass, "He didn't deserve to go out like that…just when the war was about to end. He should've been here with all of us right now. What did I do to deserve to live while a decent guy like that had to die?"

"Life isn't fair, Count," Húxiān said, "We don't get to choose who lives or dies. Just ask all those innocent families who died on Tyler Island, even if they never did anything to deserve it. It's just how the world works."

And I thought I was the cynical one.

"You know, Zubov once told me this:" I began, "It's hard for bad guys like us to die. The real heroes always manage to die first, but people like him and me…we kinda spent the rest of our lives in hell, but then again, being alive is the proof that we were good, and there's nothing we should regret about that."

I chucked when I recalled what Zubov said to me back then. The man actually laughed after he said that. He told me that he's been through so many things that should've killed him a long time ago, yet he's still alive and kicking. Either he's goddamn lucky, or he's actually that good to be able to stay alive for that long.

"Your guy Zubov sounded like a jerk," Húxiān said, "But I can't deny that what he said has merit. In this crazy world, you wouldn't last long if you can't improvise, adapt, and overcome. Reality is often cruel, and turning a blind eye to that won't make it go away. Keeping that in mind at all times is what's keeping me alive so far."

Húxiān sighed as she rested her head in the palm of her right hand, staring idly into the empty glass in front of her. It's obvious that something was troubling her.

"I'm sorry…I shouldn't have brought that up."

Húxiān nodded slightly, "I'm okay. I was just…thinking about the old days."

"Old days?"

"Back when I was still just a child in Verusa, my family…didn't exactly have a good life," Húxiān began, "When I was six, a Ulysses piece fragment struck our country. Saw those ruins in Farbanti? Double that for Xanning. The government was useless. Poverty and unrest were common sights back then, and my family…well, we do what we need to survive, either stealing from others or using force to prevent others from stealing _from_ us. Not a day had gone by in my childhood that I don't see someone getting hurt just because they're trying to survive."

"That…that must've been a pretty tough life. I'm sorry." I said. I couldn't even fathom how Húxiān's life must be like back then. I'm no stranger to the dark side of life. Hell, I did some pretty horrible things back when I worked for Zubov, but at least I was old enough to know how cruel life can be by then. Húxiān had to endure all that when she was still a young child. I can't imagine myself going through all that.

Goddamn this world.

"Two years later, my parents raised enough money to send me to live with my uncle in Osea," Húxiān continued, her voice sounded like she was on the verge of tears, "Saying goodbyes was the hardest part. I didn't…I didn't want to go. I wanted to stay with them. However shitty my life was, they're still my family, but my parents wouldn't have any of it. They wanted me to have a future…a future that wouldn't exist if I continue to stay in that hellhole. So…off to Osea I went. I never saw them again…"

I listened to her quietly, having no idea what to say. Húxiān started sobbing a little, but she tried to put on a stoic face. She was always like this: always trying to put on a brave face no matter what happened to her. I freaked out when Wiseman was shot down in Farbanti, yet Húxiān still remained calm and collected even as she saw her flight lead went down. She was also the only pilot besides Trigger who never felt fatigued after all the shit we went through after the satellites went down.

But now, after things started to slow down after the war, her past started catching up to her. I guess all that alcohol she drank in might have something to do with it as well.

I silently put my hands over her left hand on the table to reassure her, let her know that at the very least, she still has someone who's by her side. She's not alone. I was never good at this, but I had to do something. I didn't want to see Húxiān like this.

"I'm glad you managed to get out," I told her gently, "I'm glad that you're here despite everything you went through. You're the bravest woman I've ever met, Húxiān. I'm sure your parents would be very proud of you, wherever they might be. I couldn't have asked for a better wingmate."

Húxiān turned to me with a surprised look on her face at first, then she finally smiled: a warm, _real_ smile that gave me fuzzy feelings.

Damn it, she's so goddamn beautiful.

"That's the kindest thing to ever come out of your mouth, you dumbass," Húxiān said, her eyes locking with mine as she continued to smile brighter, "Thank you."

"So now it's dumbass, huh?" I teased, "Now you're starting to sound like the Scrap Queen."

"Heh, Avril still has much to learn if she wants to match me in the swearing department," Húxiān grinned.

"God pity any poor bastard dumb enough to piss you both off at the same time," I joked, "I'd rather fight with Hugin and Munin again. At least I can shoot back at them."

That actually managed to get Húxiān to laugh out loud, and I found myself laughing along with her as well. Heh, looks like I actually managed to do something right for once.

"You know, one of these days, I'm so gonna punch your stupid face," Húxiān said, "I haven't forgiven you yet for scaring me half to death when I didn't see you fly out of the Lighthouse with Trigger, you know?"

And then, she did something I never would have expected.

She kissed me on my left cheek.

"So enjoy this while it last, Sir Count." She whispered sensually into my ear.

I felt like someone was launching fireworks inside my body. I heard Trigger and Avril whistled at me from across the room with large, dumb grins on their faces. I swear, my face probably lit up like Christmas trees right now.

I love this woman.


	8. Bartlett - Enemy in the Shadows

"So I was flying past my kids after I destroyed the core at my own end, right?" I began, "And then this asshole Hamilton was pursing my kids with such murderous rage, it would make the Grey Men blushed. I guess seeing me flying past him at full speed shocked him so much that he flew straight into an enemy fighter that was pursuing me from the opposite side. Poor bastard. Shoulda paid attention to the tunnel."

"So he got himself killed because he didn't pay attention to where he was flying?" Clown asked, "That has got to be one of the lamest ways to die I've ever heard."

"Nah, I know someone whose death was lamer," Knocker added, "I heard that after you were declared MIA, the high command decided to send someone to replace you as the Wardog squadron leader. Some guy named Ford, I think. Last I heard, he got his ass shot down because he tried to land his plane at Sand Island while the base was under heavy fire. That was dumb as hell. How did that idiot manage to become Lieutenant Colonel in the first place?"

"Ford, huh?" I said, "Never even heard of the guy before but I can already tell that my students were better off without him in charge. Blaze ended up doing pretty good on his own. He might never get the chance if he had to fly under someone else. I couldn't have been more proud of him and his friends when I heard about their exploits as the Razgriz later in the war."

"The things your students could achieve on their own without your guidance, huh?" Clown said, "I couldn't even believe it at first when I learned that the infamous 'pilot with the Three Strikes' that was winning the war for us was actually my old student Trigger. It's hard to believe how far he'd come from just a fledgling under my wing."

"I envy both of you," Knocker sighed, "I wish I could've…could've mold Brownie into someone like them as well. Instead, I let her out of my sight and she got shot down, and now she's traumatized for life. She's lucky she didn't end up dead because of my carelessness. What a sorry excuse of a flight leader I am."

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Knocker," I told him, "Being a flight leader doesn't mean you're able to do everything. We all have our limits. I lost most of my students as well when the battle first broke out, remember? And despite his best efforts, Blaze also lost Chopper."

I said the last part solemnly as I thought about my lost student. That motormouth Chopper. Every time he opened his damn mouth, he's just asking to get his ass kicked. Despite this, the guy was the life and joy of Wardog Squadron. Even if I was not there myself, I just know that Chopper was the one holding my other students together. Nagase was always too serious, Grimm was too timid, and Blaze…well, he never likes to talk much, so logically Chopper should've been the one holding the group together. When I heard about what happened in November City, I was…more worried about how my surviving students dealt with it more than what happened to the man himself.

I never got to tell him how much I'm proud of him, despite his constant lack of discipline. Alvin H. Davenport will always be one of the finest students I've ever trained along with his friends. I hope he's doing alright, wherever he is right now.

"At least you got your second chance, Knocker," I said, "Regardless of what already happened, Brownie is _still alive_ , and she's here right now. You have another chance to make up to her and guide her through her issues. That's what really matters, right?"

"I suppose so," Knocker nodded, "It's just…I wish I could've been better than I was. I felt really useless during this entire war."

"You and me both, buddy," Clown added, "It felt like we never really achieved anything in this war. Our two big operations ended up failing miserably. One ended with one of our students presumed dead, and the other ended with another student getting falsely convicted of killing the ex-President."

"I was just wondering about that. Where the heck were you guys for the rest of the war?" I asked, "After that failed rescue mission, I never even heard of the IUN-PKF again. Did they all just withdraw?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Knocker replied, "The devastating outcomes of Operation Dual Wielder and Lighthouse Keeper ended up discouraging the IUN from launching any more counterattack, and we just stick with defending the borders of our controlled territories in Usea. Only the LRSSG managed to make any progress forward."

"Heh, typical. I always thought the IUN was horribly mismanaged," Clown said, "They have all the best soldiers and equipment under their employ yet all they ever do is wasting them away like nothing. Operation Lighthouse Keeper was supposed to be the end of the war had they didn't mess up the rescue operation. Trigger didn't even do anything, yet they put him into prison anyways."

"Why does this all sound so familiar?" I agreed, "They should've let those that know what they're doing in charge of the IUN…like the boys from the ISAF. They did prove to be instrumental in winning the last Usean Continental War, after all. But noooooo, the high command insisted that _we_ should be the guys in charge. After all, _we Oseans never do anything wrong_ , right? It's not like we didn't almost lose our country to the Belkans in the last war or anything with our sorry excuse of armed forces."

"I'll drink to that," Knocker said before sipping his drink, "Goddamn it. I hope the high command finally learns its lesson this time and start putting more efforts into shaping our armed forces up."

"Yeah. We need more competent officers in charge, for one thing," Clown suggested, "We need more people like us, former Admiral Andersen, or Major McOnie."

"Ah, sweet, lovely Deanna McOnie. The darling of the Osean Army," Knocker grinned, "She's smart, resourceful, and hot as hell. Anyone has her number? I would love to ask her out on a date."

I suddenly cleared my throat, much to the surprise of both Knocker and Clown.

"…what's wrong, Bartlett?"

"Be careful talking about my girlfriend, guys." I grinned.

Knocker and Clown's jaws dropped in amazement. I couldn't help but smile a bit smugly at them.

"WHAT!?" They exclaimed simultaneously, "You dated Deanna!?"

"Yup." I grinned proudly. Heh, successfully wooing Deanna McOnie was something of a personal victory for me. She's the 'poster girl' of the Osean Army, yet it was this crappy smartass air force captain who managed to win her heart.

"You did realize that you've just made _a lot_ of enemies, right? Many people are crushing hard on her, including me," Knocker chuckled, "How the hell did you even manage to do it, anyway?"

"I just invited her on a date to Sidneyland in Sapin when we were both on leave," I explained, "You'd be surprised just how much that woman _adores_ theme parks. Heh, I still remember Deanna being so giddy when I took her to the fantasy castle over there."

"That's it? All I had to do was taking her to Sidneyland?" Clown said before he facepalmed himself hard, "Why hadn't I thought of that before?!"

"But what about the Yuke Major? The one who always calls herself 'Mystery Woman Number One' or something," Knocker asked, "Didn't you two used to be an item?"

"Ah, Nastasya? She and I are having a… _complex_ relationship," I replied, "She admitted to me that ever since our last break up, she had been keeping track on me from a distance. Even though she realized that her obligation to her job means our relationship isn't likely to work out in the long-term, she still has feelings for me, and if I have to be honest, so do I. I mean, I love Deanna, I really do, but some part of me still longed for Nastasya…"

"I guess it must've been awkward when she found out that you're dating Deanna, right?"

"She took it surprisingly well, actually!" I shrugged as I took another sip of beer from my glass, "I mean, she was quite upset when she learned that I was dating Deanna, but after they both get to talk with each other…Nastasya said that she likes her. And for her part, Deanna seemed to get along really well with Nastasya as well, so in the end, everybody was happy."

"I find that answer vague and unconvincing." Clown frowned.

"You sound like a robot." I chuckled.

"So who did you choose?" Knocker asked, "You can't expect us to believe they agreed to go out with you at the same time!"

"Well, we kinda made an 'agreement'…" I said sheepishly, "Since Nastasya knows that even if she still cares a lot about me, we can't really be together for real unless either of us finally retires, so she lets Deanna and me stay with each other. She'll occasionally come by to visit us during long vacations, though, and it's my job to find a way to 'spread the love around' equally if you know what I mean."

"You. Lucky. Sonuvabitch." Knocker and Clown both spoke in unison.

"Hey, what can I say? I'm just that irresistible."

"Yeah, yeah, Mr. Casanova," Clown snickered, "Alright, I think I'm heading inside for now. It's starting to get cold out here."

"Good idea. I was just thinking about chatting with Trigger some more," Knocker agreed, "I still haven't got all the details about Trigger and his misadventures during the war. Can't wait to learn what kinda shit that crazy bastard pulled. I might probably learn some new tricks myself."

"You're just gonna get yourself killed," I laughed, "Pilots like Trigger and Blaze…they're a league of their own. You'll be lucky just trying to keep up with them."

"Heh, we'll see about that," Knocker chuckled, "Also, give my thanks to Nastasya the next time you see her, alright? I owed her for getting Brownie out of prison."

"Will do, buddy."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Clown and Knocker headed back into the café, I lit another cigarette to keep myself warm. The snow was starting to fall from the sky. It felt kinda weird experiencing winter outside of Osea. I mean, I'm not really a fan of winter myself, but at least winters in Osea felt… _homely_ , like Christmas nights homely. Winters here felt…lonely and depressing.

As it happened, I didn't have to stay alone for long, though.

"I thought they would never leave."

A voice spoke out from the shadows of the dark street near the café. I turned to look and saw someone approaching me. Someone I've been expecting to see. It's a good thing that Clown and Knocker went inside the café when they did. What I'm about to talk with this mysterious man is…not exactly something they should know about.

"I thought you'd never show up," I chuckled as I offer him a cigarette, to which he politely declined by shaking his head.

"Total communications blackout tend to result in plane delays, you know?" He replied, "North Point has been busy dealing with the aftermath of what you guys left behind in the Lighthouse War."

"Yeah, well, I didn't fight in this war, actually. Been busy doing something important elsewhere, as you should know," I said, "Where _were_ you, anyway? I thought that with those Eruseans being up to no good again, you would've played some major role assisting us in the war."

"Who said I didn't?" The guy grinned, "Why do you think the war never came close to North Point? I personally made sure of that."

"Really?"

"Well, there was this one time when the Eruseans sent an Arsenal Bird to ambush a group of retreating North Point cargo planes, right after they ambushed an IUN-PKF task force over Chopinburg. Command decided to send me up to intercept that big bird. I personally drove that thing away. Guess those Eruseans didn't want to lose their precious bird so early into the war."

"Jesus Christ," My jaws dropped in surprise, "I always knew you are good, but I never realize you are _this_ good."

"It was a nice change of pace, actually," The mysterious man said, "Back in the last war, I never had a chance to fight anything like it. There were the Stonehenge and the Megalith, yes, but they weren't the same. Fighting a gigantic aerial warship, now that's something new. I swear, if that thing didn't keep activating its shield all the time, I might've actually shot it down."

"Heh. Show off."

"I heard you guys managed to repair a Stonehenge cannon and use it to destroy that big bird, right? That was pretty impressive. Have to admit that the damn thing gave me quite a headache during the last war, so having it be on our side for once was pretty cool."

"You should thank the guys in that café. They're the ones allowing the Stonehenge repairs to be completed in time to shoot that bird down," I said proudly, "Also, there is this one hotshot ace who managed to shoot down the _other_ Arsenal Bird all on his own after its shield was deactivated. He's one crazy S.O.B….reminds me of _someone_ I know."

"Yeah, I might have heard a thing or two about that guy myself. The pilot with the Three Strikes or something. I might go and have some chat with him soon after this," The mysterious man smirked, before glancing toward the café,

"So…this is _the_ café, huh?" He said, his expression turned somewhat sad.

"What about it?"

"It's just...," The man hesitated at first as if he was feeling conflicted inside. After a brief moment, he decided to continue,

"A few years ago, I've been getting a series of letters," He began, "The writer told me about his own experience in the last war when he was still a kid. He used to stay at this café after his parents were killed. After Erusean forces moved in and occupy the city, an elite group of pilots frequently visited this café, and he befriended the lead pilot in that group…the same pilot who's been my greatest rival during that war."

"Yellow Thirteen, right?" I took a wild guess, "I saw some scribbles on a wall in the café detailing kill counts of an Erusean squadron, and Yellow Thirteen's kill count topped that list. The writing's fading a bit now, but it's still there."

"Glad to know that at least a part of his memory still remained after all this time," He smiled a bit, "Heh, I don't even know what his real name was, but Yellow Thirteen will always remain the greatest foe I've ever had the honor to fight with. It's a shame that we couldn't be allies."

"Didn't the writer of those letters mention his name?"

"He never asked. To him, names aren't as important as the person and what he meant to him."

"Heh, what's with ace pilots keeping their real names hidden, anyway? Is it the norm among us?"

The man just laughed in response, "What do you think people will remember more? Jack Bartlett or Heartbreak One?"

"Well, my wingmen certainly preferred the former," I said, "But then again, you're always that one weirdo who never had any wingman. Not officially, anyway."

"Wingmen would only slow me down," The man explained, "I was never one to play well with others, to be honest. Having wingmen means I have to constantly monitor them so they don't get themselves in harm's way, and that would only lower my effectiveness in battle. Personally, I just like to go up there and get things done, no other obligations. That's who I am. That's who 'Mobius One' should be."

Mobius One, the Blue Ribbon of North Point, the man who singlehandedly won entire wars on his own. I had the privilege to know that man for the first time when Osea and North Point were having a joint training exercise. Mobius One completely wiped the sky with my squadron. I did manage to last against him the longest before I was 'shot down', though, so he seeks me out much later to offer his compliments, and following that, an offer…

"Well, whatever you're here asking me to do, you're gonna need to learn how to work with others," I said, referring to the 'offer' that I had taken a long time ago, "This isn't something anyone can do alone, not even you."

Just then, Pops walked out of the café right on cue.

"So, what were you going to ask me about, Bartlett? Oh…" Pops paused as he noticed my friend. He was taken aback for a second, then he smiled as if he was waiting for a chance to meet the guy after all this time.

"Ah, so you must be that ace pilot I've heard so much about."

"Wolfgang Buchner. It's an honor to finally meet you, sir. Bartlett talked about you a lot." Mobius One said as he shook Pops' hand.

"Did he, now?" Pops chuckled, "If you don't mind, I prefer just being called 'Pops'. I haven't gone by my old name a long time ago, for reasons that you should probably know."

"I understand completely. That's why what I'm going to ask of you all the more difficult," Mobius One said, his voice sounded concerned.

Straight to the point, just like how I thought it would go. You'd really need to work on your subtlety, Ribbon.

"What do you mean?" Pops asked.

"What my friend is trying to say is that this is yet another one of those conspiracy plots, except this one made the whole 'Grey Men' fiasco during our war back then pale in comparison, and he wanted our help to unravel it," I added.

"Is my countrymen up to no good again?" Pops jokingly asked. Mobius One just chuckled a little.

"Some of them, yes, but this goes way beyond Belka. This threat, whatever it is, does not involve only one nation," He explained before showing Pops a photo of a symbol: a logo of something that looks like a black snake, biting its own tail while glaring menacingly.

"I recognize this symbol," Pops said, his voice sounded worried, "I saw it once or twice while I was still in the Belkan Air Force. It was the logo of a top-secret project which is headed by a specific group of people in the Belkan High Command. Even I don't know what it's about and I never find out until the day I defected."

"Yeah, well, this symbol has been showing up everywhere lately," I added, "I've been doing some investigations of my own these past few years, and they always lead back to this weird symbol. Some of the younger Erusean officers are seen with it, as did some members of the Grey Men and 'The Generals' in Estovakia, and very recently, Genette informed me that Navarro, the leader of Leasath, is seen with it as well."

"Everyone who has connections with every major war that broke out in our planet for the past twenty years," Pops noted, "And Leasath? Isn't that a country just south of Osea?"

"Yeah, that's why I'm so concerned. Leasath has been showing a lot of aggression lately ever since the civil war in their country ended," Mobius One replied, "They could cause some trouble for Osea in the near future."

"Not until they dealt with Aurelia. My friend Genette informed me that Navarro has set his sight on the country for a long while now," I added, "It's only a matter of time before fighting breaks out."

"Let's hope that someone over there would be up to the challenge, then. With the current loss of communication, we can't really do anything about it from here," Mobius One said, "Right now, we have to focus on whatever the hell is going on behind the scenes. Those conflicts could only happen because someone has been stirring it…someone with connections to this symbol."

"We need all the info we can about it, that's for sure," I said before turning to Pops, "Say, Pops, did you happen to know the name of that project you mentioned?"

"If my memory serves me right, it's Ouroboros." Pops answered, "That's all I know about it, really."

"At least we have a name. Now we just need a lead, and some more help if we can find them," I suggested, "Preferably those who can afford to lose, though. I don't want anyone who still has a lot to live for getting involved in this."

"So that means your protégé Blaze won't be joining us, huh?" Mobius One said, his voice sounded a bit disappointed, "A real shame. I heard a lot about the famous Razgriz and would love nothing more than to see them in action myself, but I can understand your concerns."

"The pilot with the Three Strikes might be interested, though," Pops added, "He always did seem to enjoy a good challenge."

"Heh. I'll keep that in mind."

"Say, speaking of help, whatever happened to your two friends?" I asked, "Weren't they still working on the case as well?"

"I'm not the only person who likes to work alone, I suppose," Mobius One smirked, "The last I heard from Phoenix and Cipher, they were pursuing their own leads in Nordennavic and Sotoa, respectively. Their status as mercenaries means it's easier for them to travel while I have to stay here in Usea. They said they'd be looking for more potential allies, though."

"That's good, we need all the help we can get," Pops said, "I don't think I can be much of help myself, though, my flying skill is not as good as it was back in the old days."

"You can be our eyes and ears on the ground, Pops," I told him, "You did have some experience on that, right? What with you figuring out the Grey Men conspiracy from behind the scenes in the last war? Well, we need you to do that again, hopefully with fewer people shooting at you."

"With the things I've been through, Captain, I'm always expecting the worst," Pops joked, "Alright, I'll see what I can do."

"So it's settled, then." Mobius One concluded, "I'll contact you guys again later once the time is right. There are too many people here right now. I'd prefer that we keep this among ourselves for now."

"You won't go in there?" I asked, "I thought you still have some unfinished business to do in there."

"I can always find Mr. Three Strikes later," Mobius One said, "People like him are hard to go by unnoticed. I'm sure he'd still be around."

"That's not what I meant." I frowned. For an exceptionally talented ace pilot/private investigator, this guy sure can be thick in the head sometimes.

It took a while for Mobius One to finally figure out what I meant, then he sighed.

"You know, more than a few times, I really wish that he was still alive," He began, his sad eyes were staring emptily into the vibrant café ahead of him as the people in it are cheering and drinking: the café that hold the memories of someone who was important to him in times long past.

"We might even become friends if he was here. That way, I probably wouldn't turn out to be the sad loner that I am today."

"No one's ever really gone, you know?" I told him, "As long as you remember him, then your memory will keep him alive in a way. I'm sure he would be proud to learn that his greatest opponent still remembers him even after all this time."

"I suppose that's all I can hope for, then." Mobius One closed his eyes as he bowed his head in acceptance.

I can only imagine what's going through his mind right now. For all the time I know Mobius One, he was always by himself. No family, no close friends, nobody that he really connected with. There was this one guy who's his AWACS, yes, but that's all he ever has. Every day, he just wakes up, go do his job, and go home. Rinse and repeat. Must've been a pretty lonely life, to be honest. I just hope that this little plot we cooked up tonight will change that for the better.

"Alright, I guess I'll have to back inside. I've been out here for too long now." I said, "Nice of you to come by and visit, Ribbon."

"Ribbon, huh?" Mobius One chuckled, "That just sounds weird out loud. Maybe I should take up your suggestion and use my real name instead."

"Hey, I'm not one to judge," I said, "There's nothing wrong with Ribbon."

"It's a name suited for an ace pilot, I'd say." Pops suggested, "Short and simple, and people will always know who you are when they talk about it."

"Touché, Huckebein the Raven." Mobius One grinned, "See you both around somewhere, aces."

And with that, Mobius One departed into the dark streets beyond. He turned back to take one last look at the café, then he continued on his way.

"He's an interesting fellow," Pops said.

"He's like the type who lets his actions speaks for himself rather than words," I replied, "And he's pretty good at it."

"I have no doubt about it," Pops agreed, "So, about this Ouroboros thing. What are you and he going to do about it?"

"Hey, we barely have any idea about what the thing even is. We'd figure it out as we go along," I said, "Right now, though, I just would like to enjoy the beer with my friends in there. It's supposed to be a celebration night, goddamnit."

"Heh."

And so, we went back into the café to enjoy the rest of the night. Whatever this Ouroboros thing is about, it can wait until a later time.

Besides, my next date with Nastasya and Deanna is coming up soon. That's a far more pressing issue, right?

I still got it.


	9. Blaze - How to Make a Video Game?

Bartlett and Pops just came back from outside.

I thought I saw them talking with someone out there for a big while earlier. I didn't get a clear look at the mysterious stranger's face as the windows were a bit foggy, but the looks on Bartlett and Pops' faces as they were walking in suggested that the conversation must've been pretty serious. They went to talk with Clown and Knocker, forming their own group on the other side of the room while the rest of us were sitting at the bar.

Why do I have a bad feeling about this?

"…Blaze! Are you drifting off again?"

I snapped back to reality. Nagase was glaring at me with a pout on her face. Heh, I always like it when she made an adorable face like that, even if it annoys her constantly.

"Sorry! I was just…I must've been drinking too much already." I laughed nervously, "Anyway, what were you saying, honey?"

"How many times I must tell you not to call me that?" Nagase punched me lightly on the shoulder, "What I was _saying_ , by the way, is that Grimm's birthday is coming up soon. We don't have a present for him yet!"

"It's okay, Nagase. It's no big deal!" Grimm waved his hands shyly, "I'm already more than happy that you'll come to my birthday party."

"I'd love to come to your party, too!" Brownie said cheerfully, "You can tell me more about your video game project."

"Wait, wait, video game project?" I asked, intrigued, "I'm sorry, did I miss anything?"

"Oh, it's a little project I've been working on, Captain," Grimm explained, "Ever since I finished my degree, I kinda…went into gaming. There's this indie video game studio based in Directus that I came across while I was studying in Ustio, and I was hooked into their games. I love how they created such a beautiful fictional world, with intensive lore and stories as well as charming and unique characters into their games. Since then, I've been learning how to make video games in my spare time."

"Sounds interesting, kid," Count said, "Which kind of game are you making?"

"I was thinking about making a combat flight simulator game," Grimm said, "I thought that I could use my own experience as a pilot to make the game feel more authentic, plus who wouldn't want to play as an awesome ace pilot?"

"Hmm, that's something," Húxiān frowned, "Make sure it doesn't get _too_ realistic, though. Mainstream gamers probably wouldn't know how to operate all those systems in the cockpit. Making the game fun to play should be your main priority."

"But also, don't make it too over-the-top," Trigger suggested, "Like, don't make your enemies too scripted so they can pretty much do anything they want."

"Oh, God, scripted enemies and events are _the worst_." I agreed, "I always hate it when I'm playing as this unstoppable badass in a game who somehow struggles to beat this wimpy boss who only wins because the game wants it to. That's just cheating."

"Noted. Thanks, both of you!" Grimm replied, "Anyone has any other suggestions?"

"Hmm, our players should always be in control of their planes when they pull whatever insane stunts just because they can." Brownie suggested, "Most of your gamers probably aren't pilots, so you should make them feel as if they are one. Have them feel like they're actually capable of pulling those cool flying moves in the game. At least that's my two cents."

"Agreed. There was this one arcade flight sim game where the developers included a mechanic which took away the player's control of the plane as they engage enemy planes in a close-range dogfight, essentially turning it into a rail-shooter." Snow added, "They _claim_ it's to make the game more cinematic, but it's just too over-the-top to take seriously. It looks like something out of a cheesy B-grade action movie."

"That doesn't sound like fun," I agreed, "Who the hell thought it was a good idea to implement that system into the game?"

"I mean, if they could polish it a bit, or at least makes it optional during gameplay and is not required to fight some enemies, then I don't mind." Grimm noted, "I'm all for trying out new ideas and learn what works and what doesn't. It's like doing an experiment. If you never do wrong, then how can you know what's good?"

"Now that's a lesson I always teach my son," Jaeger smiled, "Sounds like you're well on your way to making a great game, Grimm. Let me know when you get it done. My son always likes to play games so I can recommend it to him."

"Thank you, Mr. Jager," Grimm replied, "Though it's gonna be a long while until I actually get around to making it. I still have some trouble coming up with a good story and the setting for the games."

"Well, you're looking at it," Count suggested, "I mean, look at us! We're ace pilots in a world full of wars. Add in a few stories and legends, and bam! You got a great game."

"I don't know, I feel like it'd be wrong to turn those real-life tragedies into casual video games. It'd be disrespectful to those who lost their lives. I don't want my games to come off as being insensitive." Grimm explained.

"See, Count? You could really learn a thing or two from this guy!" Húxiān teased while punching Count lightly on his shoulders.

"Hey, what's wrong with showing the ugly side of the world to those who never experience it themselves?" Count complained.

"It's wrong if you're planning to make a profit from it instead of actually telling a good story, you dumbass," Avril replied.

"How about making a fictional world, then?" I suggested. Time to put those storywriting lessons I learned in high school to use, "I mean, you don't have to literally create an entire world from scratch. Just use whatever's around you as inspiration. Make your setting similar to our world yet different. Have countries that are stand-ins for real-life countries that existed or base fictional locations in your game on real-life locations."

"Hmm, sounds interesting," Nagase said, "So it's like a 'stranger' version of the real world? Like reality unless noted?"

"Real, yet strange, huh?" Grimm paused for a moment, then his eyes lit up and he grinned widely.

"I get it! My setting shall be called Strangereal!"

"Strangereal? What kinda name is that?!" Snow asked, "That just sounds so weird."

"I think Strangereal sounds pretty cool!" Jaeger said, "A world like our own but different. There couldn't be a more fitting name than Strangereal."

"Heh, I was initially planning to call it 'Earth' or something," Grimm admitted, "Sounds so lame now that I come up with Strangereal."

"That wraps up one thing, then," Avril added, "So, you have a basis for the storyline yet?"

"Hmm, it's a rough draft, but here goes," Grimm began, "So, you play as this pilot who's flying in Warwolf Squadron. He or she is a part of this PMC named Martinez Security. Over the course of the story, the pilot gets tangled in a conspiracy plot involving fanatical terrorists, cold-blooded mercenary pilots, and one greedy businessman. That's what I came up so far."

Grimm chuckled nervously before he continued, "Now that I actually say it out loud, it's actually kind of very silly, to be honest."

"The synopsis is okay, but I don't really like the name Warwolf," I said, "I mean, come on, Grimm! You're just swapping the 'dog' in Wardog with 'wolf', right? It doesn't feel unique enough for the protagonist of the game in my opinion."

"Well, what do you suggest then, Captain?"

"How about Antares?" Nagase said, "During the seven years while I was up there in space, I was fascinated by this one star with this name. It's the brightest star in the Scorpius constellation. I always found myself staring at it a lot when I was relaxing in the observation room on Pilgrim One. Such a magnificent star."

"Hmm, a squadron named after stars and constellations is not a bad idea." Húxiān agreed, "I mean, air forces in many countries also did that as well, right?

"Wow, you guys are pretty awesome with your ideas," Grimm smiled happily, "Antares Squadron it is, then. That actually sounds pretty cool out loud."

"And with Antares being a star in Scorpius, you can also use a scorpion as a convenient squadron emblem!" Trigger added, "Gotta use what you're given, right? Those three sin lines sure come in handy when I joined Strider. I got to make a pretty kickass emblem out of it."

"Can't beat the Razgriz emblem, though," I told him, "Your Three Strikes is pretty cool, but it can never be 'legendary demoness-turned-heroine sorcerer on a jet-black fighter' cool."

"But you used an already established legend to create your persona! At least I come up with that Three Strikes on my own!" Trigger protested.

"Ah, hell, here we go again…" Snow facepalmed.

"Hey, we gotta defend our honor, man!"

"Please, Captain, both are special in their own ways!" Grimm spoke up, "I mean, I like the Razgriz emblem better, of course, but the Three Strikes emblem has a charm of its own. Different aces, different personas, right?"

"At least _someone_ here isn't caught up in the dick-measuring," Avril noted, "So, I guess we have some core elements of your story in place now, Grimm. Now all you have to do is make a game out of them."

"Well, we still don't have a name for the game." Brownie noticed, "It's, like, the most important piece! You gotta have a catchy title to catch your gamers' interest, right?"

"I vote for War Thunder!" Count spoke up.

"Too generic. I think Crimson Skies sounds so much cooler." Húxiān added.

"Airforce Delta could also work." Snow suggested.

"How about World of Warplanes?" Trigger said. Just then, everyone turned to frown at him.

"Seriously? That the best you can come up with?" Avril asked mockingly while everyone else just shook their heads in disbelief, "That's, like, the most generic name anyone could've picked for a game, you dumbass!"

"Hey, I'm just sharing ideas here!" Trigger protested.

"Those are all pretty cool ideas, guys, but they don't really fit with the theme of my game, to be honest." Grimm said, "I want something that can perfectly capture what the game is going to be about, and it's about epic air battles between ace pilots from all over the world. That's really the crux of the game I'm going to make."

"Ace pilots, huh?" Brownie said, "How about… _Ace Combat?_ "

"That…actually sounds awesome!" Count complimented, "I mean, I still prefer War Thunder, but Ace Combat would have a nice ring in the gaming community if you ask me."

"I agree. If it's a game about ace pilots, then Ace Combat fits pretty well, I'd say." Jaeger added.

"Have to admit, Ace Combat is better than anything I can come up with." Trigger said, "This could work nicely."

"Go with her suggestion, Grimm. Hers is a pretty good idea." I encouraged, "Think of how we fly with all those planes in Sudentor back then, all of them flown by ace pilots just like us. If that's what your game is going to be about, then Ace Combat is the perfect name for it."

"Thanks, Captain! And Alicia, your idea is awesome!" Grimm said happily, "Let it be _Ace Combat_ , then. I can't wait until I actually put all those ideas into production! It's like I'm having an early birthday present right now!"

Heh, Ace Combat. Why do I imagine that it'd be an instant classic one day? If Grimm pulled this off, I won't be surprised if there would be a dozen more of these games coming out.

It's just like Grimm said: who doesn't want to play as awesome ace pilots?

Just as we continued to enjoy our meals and drinks, some stranger walked into the café like he owned the place. He looked about middle-aged. He has a pretty bulky body and his face was pretty rough. If I didn't know any better, I could've sworn he's an escaped criminal.

As I later learned, it wasn't really that far from the truth.

"Finally…I've been walkin' forever to find a restaurant around here! Everywhere else is closed!" The guy mumbled. His eyes scanned around the room before he saw us at the bar, then he suddenly sported a big grin on his face.

"Holy hell! Trigger! Count! You assholes are still alive!?"

I turned to look at Trigger and Count; their faces went blank with shock as if they just saw a ghost. No, really. Not hyperbole. I mean they really look like they saw an actual ghost standing in front of them right now.

"HIGH ROLLER!?" They shouted in unison.

"That's right, bitches! I'm still alive!" The new guy spread his arms out proudly as he announced himself, "As I said, I'm still at the goddamn table, and it's time you pay up!"


	10. Trigger - The Man Who Refuses to Die

I just couldn't believe what I'm seeing right now.

I mean, I'm no stranger to people inexplicably survive unlikely situations. Brownie survived getting shot down by Mihaly, Mihaly himself survived being shot down by me, the Princess survived skydiving down the Lighthouse with drones shooting at her, and Count survived his dangerous belly landing under the Lighthouse.

And now High Roller inexplicably survived getting his ass shot down as well. I swear, the next thing I know, Mr. Harling himself would probably be knocking on the door a few minutes after this.

"How the hell did you survive!?" Count asked, his eyes went wide in disbelief.

Before High Roller could answer anything, Húxiān cut him off first.

"Wait, Count, you knew him? Who's this guy?" She asked, looking back and forth between Count and High Roller with a confused expression on her face.

"Allow me to answer that," Avril said, "This idiot is High Roller, one of the convicts in McKinsey's penal unit. We thought he was killed in action, yet here he is."

"High Roller? What kind of name is that?" Grimm asked.

"He's a gambling nutjob. That's how he got his name," I answered, "In fact, the last thing he said before he got his ass shot down was that he's betting on himself to make it out alive."

"And I actually did! So it's time you assholes pay up." High Roller smiled, "Who are all these people, anyway!?"

I took a glance around the room. Practically everyone who's not me, Count, and Avril was staring at us and High Roller like deer in the headlight. Can't really blame them. They don't know who High Roller even is, never mind the fact that he should be dead by now.

"Are these all your friends, Harling's murderer?" High Roller asked.

"For starters, I am _not_ Harling's murderer, I was framed. How many times must I tell you that!?" I spoke in annoyance. Hell, I could feel the Razgriz pilots cringed hard without even looking,

After we finished awkwardly introducing High Roller to the group (he tried to hit on Húxiān once. Needless to say, she wasn't amused), High Roller then sit down next to us as he began telling his story.

"So…first things first," I said, "How the hell did you survive getting your ass shot down?"

"Did you actually _see_ me getting shot down? I thought you were returning to base to resupply." High Roller replied, "Seriously, leaving us when things get too hot to handle, Trigger?"

"I'm just going back to get more ammo so I could kick more asses," I told him, "Got thrown into solitary for that, but it was way worth it."

"Hey, hey, don't get distracted!" Count spoke up, "You still haven't told us how you survived!"

"Well, I parachuted out, what else?"

"Impossible. Bandog locked the ejector seats to prevent us from escaping," I argued, "There's no way you could've bailed out!"

"See, that's the funniest thing," High Roller grinned, "I got hit with two missiles, right? When the first missile hit, the impact force somehow disabled whatever was locking the ejector seat, and I managed to bail out before my plane exploded when the second missile hit."

"So you survived because of luck?" Clown frowned.

"Hey, I did survive my plane crash landing somehow," Avril added, "It's not that far-fetched. Sometimes you just got lucky."

"Let's just go with that…" Blaze sighed, "So, what happened next? You must've landed right in the middle of the Erusean base, right? Didn't you get captured?"

"Well, my boys were pretty thorough with their precision bombing," High Roller explained, "They pretty much cleaned up all the Eruseans in the area. Whoever's not fighting were running away with tails between their legs. I didn't even need to find a place to hide!"

"What can I say? We're awesome pilots," Count said proudly, "We were having so much fun blowing the hell out of everything."

"Please, Count, I was doing most of the work. How many drones did you shot down again?" I reminded him. Heh, the guy still can't help but make himself look good, huh?

"Four, and come on! Give me some respect, man!" Count complained, "I would've shot down more of them if you had left some for me!"

"Heh, you sure you aren't inflating your numbers again, Count?" High Roller smirked before he continued, "Anyway, since you guys were _too good_ at your job, the main forces that were supposed to attack the base were baffled to find only me standing alone in the middle of the smoked ruins that used to be the enemy base. Heh, the looks on their faces when they realize they were upstaged by mere convicts was priceless."

"I always wonder what happened after we left," I said, "I mean, we pretty much bombed everything that can be bombed. What did the main forces do after that?"

"They rounded up some stragglers and recover whatever intel they could find," High Roller explained, "They noticed that I was one of the convicts from the 444th so they locked me up and planned to send me back to McKinsey later."

"Well, obviously that didn't happen. You never made it back to Zapland," Avril noted, "So where did you end up?"

"There was an air attack. An Erusean Su-30 with orange wingtips ambushed us as we're making our way to the nearest base. Damn bastard almost blew up the truck I was in!"

"So, Mr. X was up to no good again. You're lucky to be alive." Brownie said. Her voice trembled a bit at the mention of the dreaded pilot that shot her down, but otherwise, she still remained calm. Gotta commend her for that.

"Yeah, well, my lucky streak isn't over yet, girl" High Roller laughed, "After that Su-30 was done blowing us up, the survivors including me got captured by Erusean forces. Apparently, the only reason we were still alive was that their high command needed someone to interrogate for intel, and we were the ones lucky enough to be spared."

"Just like that? So you just happened to stay in the one truck that didn't get blown up?" Bartlett frowned.

"What can I say? Luck is one of my skills," High Roller chuckled, "So anyway, the following couple of weeks saw us transferred to multiple bases across eastern Usea until we eventually ended up in some place called Artigilo Port. Our convoy was refueling at the oil depot there when, surprise! It fell under attack! By Osean fighters!"

"Uh…that was us…" Count spoke sheepishly, "We were deployed to destroy the oil fields to prevent the Eruseans from refueling their drones."

"Of course I know it's you guys! I saw the sin lines on your planes!" High Roller said excitedly, "As the Eruseans were busy trying to defend the base, I managed to sneak away and try to signal you guys for help, but then the sandstorm just _had_ to come in and ruined my escape plan."

"That's too bad," I said.

"It's not like you guys could notice my signal early on anyway. All you did back then was blowing shit up! Hell, it's a goddamn miracle I didn't get caught in one of those massive explosions." High Roller complained, "Your wanton destruction ended up getting me recaptured, so thanks for that, assholes."

"Hey, it's not our fault that you just had to pull your escape attempt _during a sandstorm!_ " Count retorted.

"Ah, well, at least I tried," High Roller said, "Anyway, the Eruseans realized they should send us somewhere so secured, it couldn't possibly be attacked. So they shipped me and whoever survived all the way up north. A couple of weeks later, I ended up on some marine platform base in Snider's Top. Heh, so secured _my ass._ "

Okay, now this is getting ridiculous.

"That was the base that I and Count attacked after we joined the LRSSG!" I said in disbelief, "That's one hell of a coincidence if you ended up there just before we arrived!"

"Oh, so that was you guys!? I knew I recognize that Three Strikes symbol from somewhere!" High Roller smiled, "And also…you almost got me killed again when you collapsed a platform on top of the warship I was on. Thanks a lot for that, Trigger."

"You survived the platforms collapsing?" Húxiān asked in amazement, "Just how lucky can you be!?"

"I dunno, and I pretty much don't care. I'm still alive, ain't I?" High Roller frowned, "Anyway, this time I and the Osean POWs _finally_ managed to escape from them in a tiny raft. We snuck onboard another Erusean destroyer with them none-the-wiser. We headed to a small airbase in a place called Cape Rainy. That's when this guy, Captain Karl, offered to set me free if I helped him get his men out alive and cripple the Eruseans in the process."

"Wait, did you say Captain Karl?" Jaeger asked, "That's the same guy who worked with General Labarthe in Anchorhead!"

"What!? You guys knew that crazy bastard, too?!" High Roller grinned, "Dude's like a secret agent with how slick he is, sneaking through those Erusean soldiers and security cameras like a freaking ninja. I helped him leaked the info about Erusean missile silos in Sierraplata and the airbase at Cape Rainy to you guys."

"So, we were working together all along," Count said, "Mind officially blown."

"Small world, huh? So yeah, we stayed hidden in Cape Rainy for a while, feeding out info to the allied forces. Eventually, they start to get suspicious, so we hitched a ride on the same Erusean destroyer to Farbanti in the middle of the night before they could realize what's going on. I heard Cape Rainy Airbase was bombed just mere hours after we left. I assumed that was you guys, right?"

"Pretty much, yeah. I think I'm seeing a pattern here." I said, "I'd just assume that a few days later during the battle of Farbanti, we somehow did something that affected you, right?"

"Er…yeah, you brought a building down on me," High Roller gave me a shit-eating grin, "The captain of the destroyer we were on had the bright idea of sailing right into the flooded ruins of the old Farbanti. Probably thought it would provide cover from enemy fire, I guess, but then you just had to drop a whole building down on us. I and Karl barely managed to get out alive!"

"Yeah, just as I expected," Clown sighed, "Seriously, how much more over-the-top can this get?"

"The best is yet to come, buddy," High Roller smirked, "Anyways, not long after I and Karl managed to get ourselves to safety, everything had gone to hell. We could see wrecks of satellites exploding in the skies above, and all communications were cut off. The only good thing was that we _finally_ managed to rendezvous with friendly Osean forces after two long months."

"Well, if you continued to stay with Karl, I suppose you'd probably be in Anchorhead as well when he was escorting Labarthe, right?" Húxiān asked, "I mean, since you've been shadowing us this far, might as well take it all the way."

"Damn, girl, you'd make a good gambler. That was right on the money!" High Roller said, "I helped Karl get that dude Labarthe out of Farbanti and keep him safe until we reached Anchorhead. The guy revealed that all those chaos happened because some young Erusean officers messed with Belkan techs or something. Heh, those people never learned. Mess with Belkan techs and you'll get rekt. Simple as that."

"I hate to admit it, but that was completely accurate," Pops sighed, "To this day, I still wonder how the hell Gründer Industries managed to stay in business after the stunt they pulled in the last war. Someone _just keeps buying their stuff_!"

"That's what I keep telling my superiors!" Knocker said, "You'd be surprised just how much equipment in OADF was made by Gründer. Let that sink in, some idiots in the High Command thought buying weapons from _the people who tried to ruin their country_ is a good idea."

"Those people are always idiots," Avril added, "I won't be surprised if one day corporations like Gründer end up running the world instead because of how useless today governments are."

"Ain't that the goddamn truth," High Roller agreed, "So anyway, as we were being airlifted out of the city in a chopper, an F-16 flew out of nowhere and shot our asses down. Probably thought we were an enemy, I suppose. I was the only one to make it out alive. Karl and Labarthe didn't make it. Too bad, I was beginning to like that Karl guy."

"So, you survived a helicopter crash into the sea while everybody else dies," Snow sighed, "At this point, nothing you say will surprise me anymore…"

"What can I say? I was born lucky." High Roller said, "So, yeah, I don't really remember much after I got washed up ashore. Everybody was shooting at each other with the bloody IFF disabled, so I did my best to survive. Somehow, I ended up at the space elevator near the end of the month, right when there's a massive air battle going on over there."

"And there he goes…" Blaze said, "I was afraid you'd lost your friends for a while there."

"It's like we have tracking devices on us," Count added, "Somehow this guy always follow us everywhere."

"Ha, ha," High Roller chuckled, "Anyway, I was crossing the long bridge from Selatapura when Trigger managed to shoot that Arsenal Bird down. Damn thing almost crashed into the bridge right where I was! Somehow, though, the big bird glided on a bit longer and overshot the bridge before crashing into the sea just beyond it. Maybe it was windy, I don't know, but that was a pretty close one."

"Of all the shit you survived so far, you thought _that_ was a close one?" I asked in disbelief, "High Roller, you're like _the luckiest man alive_ right now. I wouldn't be surprised if you survive the freaking Ulysses impact itself should it happen again."

"Yeah, well, at least I wasn't the only one who was inexplicably lucky this time," High Roller replied, "When I made it to the Lighthouse, I came across this pretty lady in an orange spacesuit. Apparently, she just jumped down from the top of the freaking space elevator."

"You ran into Cossette!?" Avril asked with a shocked expression on her face.

"Cossette? Do you mean _that_ Cossette? The princess of Erusea?" High Roller asked, "Damn, I didn't recognize her because her face was a mess. Still pretty cute even with all those bruises, though. Lucky me!"

"Goddamn it, Cossette, why did you never mention this!?" Avril facepalmed before giving High Roller a death glare, "And _you_ , please don't tell me that you did something to her or so help me, you'll never leave this café alive."

"Hey, hey, calm down! I just saved her life!" High Roller explained as he put his hands up to defend himself from Avril's wrath, "She was unconscious and suffered some injuries after the jump so I gave her some basic first aid. Then I took her to the nearest bunker to hand her over to the Osean forces. We couldn't get out because those two damn superdrones were shooting anything that moves, so we were stuck there until the next day. I never told her that I was the one who saved her, though."

"Huh, so that's why Cossette never said anything," Avril noted, "You better hope you're telling the truth, you dumbass!"

"I swear to God, I'm telling the truth. Why won't you believe me!?" High Roller complained.

"Considering all the bullshits you have been telling us so far? Unlikely." Húxiān replied.

"Whatever. Doesn't change the fact that I saved her life," High Roller continued, "So, the next morning, you guys arrived and engage the two superdrones in battle. That kept those little shits busy alright, so I helped the survivors getting on a boat to get the hell out of there. We also managed to rescue some of the downed pilots who survived their crashes into the sea as well."

"Huh. Have to admit, that was pretty nice of you." Count said, "I thought you'd be looking out for number one first."

"Hey, look who's talking. I might be a crook, but I'm not an asshole. I'm not about to let those people drown in the waves just after they survived getting shot down!" High Roller retorted, "Anyway, here's the kicker: one of the guys I fished out of the sea used to be a wingman of the guy who that attacked my convoy months ago. You know, the guy who flew the Su-30 with orange wingtips? Imagine the odds!"

"Wait, what!?" Húxiān exclaimed, "Did you get his name?"

"Hmm, I didn't ask him, but his flight helmet said 'Wit'. Probably his callsign, I think." High Roller replied, "Dude's pretty calm for someone who almost died, or maybe he was in shock. He just kept mumbling something about 'Mihaly' over and over. Pretty weird guy."

Okay, now I'm pretty sure my entire life is a lie right now. Nobody actually died in the Lighthouse War. They're just hiding. I can see it now: Tabloid, Champ, and Full Band laughing their asses off at our expense somewhere from outside the café as they high-fived each other for deceiving us into thinking that they died.

"After that, I just ended up slacking around in western Usea," High Roller continued, "I was trying to raise enough money to buy me a ride back to Osea. Still have no luck so far. Well, at least I managed to meet up with you guys again. I suppose that counts for something."

"High Roller, buddy, you have no idea just how much you made our lives better right now," Count grinned widely, "It's good to see you alive, man."

"Heh, getting soft, Count? Never thought you'd be this nice," High Roller laughed, "Nice to see you, Trigger, and the Scrap Queen alive and well, too."

"You're not the only one with the affinity for cheating death, you know?" I said, "Some people are just too good to die."

"Speak for yourself, Trigger! I was lucky to be alive!" Brownie chuckled, "I suppose someone up there still likes us enough. It's the only way to explain just how the hell we're still alive."

"Heh, I won't be surprised if that's actually the case," I agreed, "We probably won't find out until we actually bite the dust for real, though. Hopefully not anytime soon."

"You just had to say it, didn't you? Saying that you won't die is a sure ass way to get yourself killed!" Avril groaned.

"Oh, come on, you really believe that nonsense? That stuff only works in the movies!" I told her.

"Screw you guys so much…" Avril waved her hands in defeat as she drowned in another drink.

"So, anyone up for some arm wrestling?" High Roller grinned, "I bet I'll owe all your asses without breaking a sweat!"

Heh, same old High Roller.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I came up with the idea of having High Roller survived after someone discovered a glitch where if you go back to refuel at the base just as High Roller's scripted death rolls around in Mission 07, there's a chance you can prevent High Roller from getting shot down – even if the dialogue says otherwise. That's why I have Trigger went back to the base to rearm and refuel in this story so he never actually witnessed High Roller getting shot down and only heard about it. Plus, High Roller is my favorite guy in the Spares, and I was quite unhappy that he got shot down early on (the guy was voiced by the same guy that voiced Bartlett in AC5, for God's sake!), so I wanted to give him another chance just like I gave Brownie lol.


	11. Nagase - Forgiveness

As everyone was gathering around the newcomer High Roller before he began telling tales after tales of his inexplicable survival, I was just sitting there at the bar reading a book. Maybe it's just me, but telling war stories or listening to them isn't really my idea of fun.

I've got nothing against the man himself. High Roller seemed like a decent enough guy for an ex-convict, and the man who saved my life at the space elevator seemed to trust him so there's no problem on my end. It's just that I'm not really that interested in group conversations. I prefer personal talks like the one I had with Brownie earlier, or how that former Yuktobanian ace confessed what she did to me at the Lighthouse a few days earlier. If there's no one to talk, then I'll just be by myself reading books in peace. That's how I am.

Blaze, Bartlett, even Chopper often teased me for being somewhat of a loner back in my military pilot days. I always stick with reading books while waiting for Perrault to deliver his briefings. I rarely, if ever, converse with my friends unless they talked to me directly. Well, it's just how I enjoy spending my free time. I wasn't really much of a people person. Not even joining ONSA and participating in the space mission on _Pilgrim One_ really changed me much, to be honest.

"Would you like to order anything else, ma'am?" The young lady barkeep asked.

"Just a glass of water, please. Thank you."

The barkeep bowed a little with a smile before walking over to pour a glass of water. I continued reading my book as High Roller began talking about surviving a marine platform crashing into him. That managed a small chuckle out of me. Heh, even I do a good tall tale every once in a while. Chopper used to do that a lot, after all.

"Looks like your friends are having a good night out tonight," The barkeep said as she put the glass of water next to me.

"They certainly did," I replied as I glanced back at my friends, "It's been a long while since I get to hang out with my fellow pilots. Reminds me of memories of the old days."

"It sure brings to mind a familiar scene from a long time ago," The barkeep agreed, "Fighter pilots sure seem to like visiting this little café."

"Fighter pilots?" I asked.

The barkeep's smile faded a little as she began arranging the discs on a nearby counter. She didn't answer right away, her expression told me that she's contemplating what to say to me.

Strange, now that I took a good look at the young barkeep, I could realize that she's not just any ordinary lady. Her stare seemed a bit distant, her face seemed weary, and her body moves as if she's on a constant alert. It's as if she had been through some unpleasant experience in the past.

"When I was a teenager, there was a war," The barkeep began, "You should know the story already. Erusea launched an invasion across the continent in retaliation for the trade embargo imposed upon them, and chaos spread like wildfire. San Salvacion was one of the first places that got occupied by Erusean forces, and it stayed that way for most of the war."

I closed the book I was reading, intrigued by this young lady's story. The barkeep paused to gather her thoughts. She sighed a little before continued,

"A group of Erusean pilots used to frequent this café. They were ace pilots just like you and your friends."

The barkeep turned toward me with a sad smile on her face. She avoided looking at me directly, though, as if she's ashamed of something.

"It must have been pretty hard for you, right? Having to cater to the people who occupied your city?" I asked.

"The line between friend and foe became less clear when you and your enemy constantly spend your time together under the same roof," The barkeep answered, "especially when you find out that off-duty, they're not really that different from us: just ordinary people who enjoyed living their lives."

The barkeep chuckled as she sat down opposite of me behind the bar, "Heh, I know this one boy. His parents were killed and he had nowhere else to go, so my father kind of took him in after his uncle abandoned him. After those Eruseans arrived in our café, the boy often hangs around with them a lot. It's as if they became his new family."

"It's understandable, though," I said, "When you have no one else left, you have no choice but to turn to those who are still around you, no matter who they are."

"It's funny, I used to think he was silly and naïve for being like that. He just had to make friends with the people responsible for his parents' deaths," The barkeep laughed bitterly, "I'm such a hypocrite. How could I call him silly and naïve when the boy became best buddies with the man I fell for?"

The barkeep pulled something out of her sweater pocket. It was a photo, which she proceeded to show it to me. In it contained four people, two children, and two adults. I could recognize the child standing on the left side of the photo as the barkeep when she was younger. I don't know about the other three people, but I assumed the brown-haired boy on the bottom right was the boy she was talking about. There was a tanned-skin woman with a long dark hair standing behind him with a beautiful smile on her face.

The barkeep pointed to the silver-haired man sitting in the middle of them all. His smile wasn't as wide as the woman standing behind him, yet it was a warm, friendly smile on the same. Somehow, he reminded me of Blaze. He had that air of coolness that commanded respect and intimidation, yet his little smile suggested that he's also very pleasant and approachable.

"I won't ever forget the moment when he walked into this room," She began, "I don't even know what his name even was, but he captured my heart the moment he started playing his guitar, with that boy accompanying him with his harmonica. The room was silent as everyone listened to them playing their music."

The barkeep paused. She smiled a little as she reminisced her past, "It's as if the whole world stopped to set a stage for their performance. At that moment, I had forgotten about the war…about how most of the people in the room back then were supposed to be my enemies, even the man that I fell hard for. In that blissful moment, nothing else mattered except them."

"A breathtaking scene has a way of making you forget about everything else," I agreed, "I myself have my own shares of these moments back during the war nine years ago as well. The moment when our allies and former enemies come together as the song we all love was playing on the radio. It was simply unforgettable."

"I just…I just wish that it didn't have to end as it did," She replied, "Me and my father…we were part of the town's resistance forces," The barkeep said with a depressed look on her face, "No matter how much I cared for him, he's still an enemy, and I have to do my part to hinder them in whichever ways I could, and one day…I did something terrible."

"What do you mean?"

"That pilot…he and his friends had set up shop at a nearby highway. They turned it into a makeshift runway base, and my job was to plant some bombs on it. I succeeded and managed to blow up all the reserve supplies. One of his wingmen - the only woman pilot in the group - was injured as well, and her plane was damaged in the blast."

The barkeep pointed to the tanned-skin woman in the photo, the one with the beautiful smile.

"She…was someone that he cared very much for," The barkeep said. I could sense guilt in her voice, "Despite her plane being heavily damaged, she insisted on going up on sortie with her flight lead on an emergency mission. She never came back."

The barkeep sighed heavily before she continued, "The only thing left behind was a handkerchief that he had kept with him. The words he said when he returned to the café that night were something that would haunt me for the rest of my days."

The barkeep pointed at a lone paper posted on the far side of the room next to some scribbles on the wall that I hadn't noticed earlier. It was a piece of an old ISAF paper headlined 'Lone fighter destroys Stonehenge'.

"'Look! Here's something worthy of praise,' he said," The barkeep continued, "'Even among the enemy, there are men like this. Not all of them are despicable bastards who rob our wings through…through cowardly sabotage'…"

The barkeep struggled to finish the last part. She seemed to be on the verge of tears as she said that. I could not help but pity the poor lady for that.

"I could tell that he knew…that there were people responsible for his closest wingman's death in the room, and he wanted us to know it."

"You couldn't have predicted what would happen," I said, "You couldn't have known that she would be the one to get shot down because her plane just so happened to be the one damaged by the blast."

"It's no excuse. I still bombed that runway and sealed her fate," The barkeep replied, "I was just as responsible for her death as the pilot who shot her down."

"You didn't do it out of malice, right? You did it because you wanted to free your country," I told her gently, "Sometimes, we can't avoid hurting others to do the right thing, even if it makes us hate ourselves for doing it. Believe me, I'd rather not have killed anyone if I could help it, but wars won't end by themselves. The only thing we can do is to hope that whatever we do would end them with as little bloodshed as possible."

"That…wasn't exactly true," The barkeep admitted, "I…admit, I was jealous of how close that woman was with the man I cared about, how she's always in my way and stopped me from getting close to him. That woman would never let anything harm her beloved flight lead, and I really wanted her to just go away. Just…out of the picture."

The barkeep lowered her face as if she's reeling from the immense guilt. Her voice trembled as she continued.

"I…deliberately planted a bomb near her plane…"

I covered my mouth in shock as I heard her say that. I couldn't process what she just told me. To think that a young girl would deliberately engineer someone's death. I don't know what to make of this.

"Yellow Four died because of me…." The barkeep said, her voice started trembling, "She died because of my childish impulse for a man I barely know. She never did anything to deserve this. How could I had been so cruel to her?"

The barkeep poured out her words like she's been holding them inside her all this time. I could do nothing but listen to her, powerless to offer her any solace for her painful past. This was not like Brownie's story. I can help a person who's suffering from PTSD, but this was something different. This was something much more personal. It pained me to see this lady be in this miserable state with nothing I could do to help.

"A few months later, he finally found out," The barkeep continued as her voice became even more strained, "I was running away after my failed sabotage attempt and hid in a dark alley, where he was waiting for me in a car nearby. He stepped out and cornered me. He knew what I had done…what I did to his closest wingman. There was a look of pure hatred in his eyes."

The barkeep started sobbing a bit. I could only imagine how painful it was for her young self – being hated by the man she adored because she had hurt someone close to him. The poor girl.

"I remember that young boy revealing himself and yelled at him," She continued, "'Get out of our town, you fascist pig!' were the words out of his mouth. Suddenly, the hatred in the man's face was gone, replaced by anguish. 'Do you hate us that much?' he asked in a weak, defeated voice. We never got the chance to answer him before he told us to go. As we ran away, I took one last glance back at him…I could see some tears in his eyes through the darkness."

The barkeep took a deep sigh as she finally gave in and let tears started flowing down her face.

"That was the last time I saw Yellow Thirteen alive…he was killed by the same ace pilot that killed Yellow Four not long after that in Farbanti. I saw his last moments with my own eyes."

"You followed him all the way there?"

The barkeep nodded, "Along with the boy that saved me. We…we had nowhere else to go…"

I just sat there in silence watching the poor woman relieving her painful memories. All I could do was holding her hand through all of it, for whatever good it did.

After a while, she finally managed to calm down,

"I'm…I'm sorry…I shouldn't have put you through all this," The barkeep whispered, "You must think I'm crazy right now...pouring my heart out to someone I just met…"

"It's okay to let your feelings out. I know that you've been waiting to share your story to someone. It must've been painful to hold it in for so long," I told her, "I'm really glad that you told me all this. I really do."

The barkeep managed a little smile in response, even as she's still crying, "It's just…I really wanted to confess what I had done, and you reminded me so much of her…of Yellow Four."

"Me?" I was surprised by the barkeep's reply.

"The way you always stay close by his side," She gestured to Blaze, who was sitting the closest to me listening to High Roller telling his tale on the other side of the room, "You and him reminded me so much of them, I couldn't help but think back to when they were alive…and my guilt came back to me once again."

The barkeep sighed once again before she continued, "I never got to apologize to them for what I did, but seeing you and your husband walking into my café together…It's like a saw a spitting image of them. I…have to admit I was observing you both this whole time. I just had to urge to say something…to get this guilt out of me. I tried to talk to your husband earlier but he was with a friend at the time, so I didn't say anything. When you came to sit here by yourself, I…I just couldn't resist."

"I…"

I struggled to say anything. My eyes were just staring at the tanned-skin lady in the photo – Yellow Four and her beautiful smile, couldn't help but feel intrigued and saddened for someone I never even met.

From what the barkeep told me, Yellow Four was just like me. She seemed very determined to stay close and protect her dear flight leader, just like how I always stay by Blaze's side back then. Some chilling thought then manifested in my mind: what if I was actually killed when I was shot down back then? What would Blaze's reactions be? A terrifying thought, to be honest.

Yellow Four…she was someone that I could have been had I was less lucky, and Blaze would've been my Yellow Thirteen.

"Blaze is…he's always doing his best to keep his friends alive," I finally began, "When we fly together, he always made sure that all of his wingmen were safe and accounted for. He was…he was devastated when one of our friends didn't make it back after a sortie. He said that everything we had achieved…all the victories we brought to our allies, he'd gladly trade it all to have his friend back."

"Yellow Thirteen also has the same idea," The barkeep agreed, "He prided himself not on his outstanding achievements in battle, but for his record of never losing a wingman. That all changed with Four's death. After that, he gradually lost more and more of his friends to the rival ace. It's as if losing Four broke something inside him, and he's no longer as good as he once was."

The barkeep traced her fingers across Yellow Thirteen and Four's faces on the photo as she stared at them longingly, "I couldn't help but feeling that I was responsible for it all. If Four was still alive, then maybe he would as well. Maybe they would together prevail against the enemy ace that was gunning for them."

She sighed as she realized another implication that would come from it,

"And then Erusea would have won…and my country would never be free." She mumbled bitterly, "There's no version of this where we all get a happy ending. It was a pointless fantasy that has no chance of coming true. I was so naïve to even think that it could happen."

"I don't believe that," I immediately told her, "There's nothing wrong in wishing for a better world where we could all get along. Even if reality doesn't work like that, the fact that you would love to see it happen is an admirable thought."

"It doesn't change the fact that I still tried to kill Yellow Four, which eventually led to her death anyway," She replied, "I lied to myself that I was a freedom fighter looking to liberate my country, but everything I did was out of selfish desire to see the people I hated suffer. I was not the brave member of the resistance I told myself I am. I was just an impulsive girl who let my emotions got the better of me…and the person I cared for paid the price for it."

"In war, there are no innocents. In the heat of the moment, the line between right and wrong becomes blurred," I explained, "We did things that we never would have done otherwise because we did not have the time to think things through. We let emotions override reasons because they motivated us better. Most of the time, the things we did will haunt us for the rest of our days. It's one of the sad realities of the world."

I sighed as my eyes stared blankly into the distance, "Even I did many things I wasn't proud of. I call myself an advocator of peace, yet I had also taken countless lives…lives of people who, in the end, weren't even our enemies. On the battlefield, we have no time to decide who's right or wrong. We do things that must be done to survive, but that doesn't mean it's who we really are underneath."

I held the barkeep's hand that was holding the photo on the bar counter, trying to reassure her that I understand how she feels. It's not much, but I wanted to help her however I can.

"I'm sure that Yellow Four would agree with me if she's still here," I told her, "Even if I never knew her myself, her smile in that photo tells me all I need to know about her. I can tell that she was very kind and compassionate. She'd rather not fight in wars if she could, but circumstances forced her to become a killer, and because she's a combatant in a war, nothing stopped her from becoming one of its casualties, even if she didn't really deserve it."

I gave the barkeep a small smile before I continued, "She knew what she was going into when she went up there in the damaged plane. She could've stayed on the ground, but she won't let her flight leader out of her sight and followed him up there. That's the path she had chosen for herself, and she accepted it. She would never have blamed you for what happened to her. I would have done the same if I was in her place. If I was her, I would accept your apology."

The barkeep listened quietly, then she finally gave a small smile. Not exactly a happy smile, but a smile of relief.

"All I wanted was a chance to say sorry," She began, "That's all I ever wanted, really. I never got to tell Four and Thirteen myself, to apologize for what I did to them, and it has been my biggest regret ever since."

Some tears started flowing down her eyes again, but this time they were tears of relief, not of regret.

"I just…wish that there could be some way to let them know, wherever they are right now."

"I'm sure they already know," I said with a smile as I pointed to the photo she was holding in her hand, "See? They're smiling at you right now."

The barkeep picked the photo up before pressing it on her forehead tenderly. Her relief tears covered the photo of the three important people in her life. She didn't say anything in reply, but her warm smile was enough for me to know that everything is going to be alright.

Sometimes, that's all anyone with regrets needed, really: forgiveness.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a while, things started to settle down in the café once again. That newcomer High Roller joined up with Trigger, Count, and Avril as they reminisced about the old days. Clown, Knocker, Snow, and Bartlett were chatting and drinking as usual. Grimm and Brownie retreated to a corner of the cafe as they continued to flirt with each other. Blaze, Pops, Jaeger, and Húxiān gathered up in a group to exchange their war stories.

"Quite a sight, huh?" The barkeep spoke, "It's been a while since this café has this many customers. I guess I have the war to thank for that."

"How was San Salvacion doing during the war?" I asked, "Did the Eruseans moved into the country once again?"

"Same old story. They moved into the town. The locals here put up a resistance and assisted Osean forces behind the scenes until they managed to liberate our city. Nothing really new."

"It must've been hard living in a place that always seems to be the center of conflict," I noted, "Usea sure is a difficult place to live."

"We kind of got used to it now, to be honest," The barkeep chuckled, "Hell, even the satellite disaster didn't affect us very much at all. What we've been through in the last war gave us a lot of experience using other, more old-fashioned means to communicate."

"Very resourceful, indeed," I admired, "In times of crisis, people banding together can achieve a lot of things in spite of overwhelming odds. It's great to know that the people of San Salvacion always stick with each other no matter what."

"I just wish that the boy I grew up with was with me as well," The barkeep said in a sad voice, "Ever since the last war, he had stayed with me and my father. He's like my foster brother, to be honest. We stayed together until we both became adults, then he left to travel the world a few years ago, just before _this_ war broke out. He has yet to come back here."

"You two didn't keep in contact?"

"We did - until the satellites went down, anyway. Last I heard, he said he found a job as an assistant to some researcher or something."

The barkeep giggled a bit as she finished the last part before she continued,

"That dummy Nemo…what the hell does he know about science, anyways?"

"Nemo?"

"That's his name," The barkeep said, "Well, nickname, actually. He never told me his real name, but he insisting everyone call him like that. He said it was the name of the protagonist in his favorite adventure book that his father used to read for him."

"Speaking about names," I said, "I think I don't have the pleasure of knowing your name earlier, Miss…"

"Risa Hirose," The barkeep replied with a smile, "I know. Weird name. I used to get teased a lot back in the day, honestly."

"Not at all!" I smiled back at her, "That's a lovely name."

"Thank you. It was my mother's idea, actually," Risa replied, "She was originally from Osea. She came here after she married my father."

I wondered if Risa's mother was from the same place my family came from. That surname sounded a lot like many people I know in the place I grew up.

"Nice to meet you, Risa Hirose," I greeted her.

"Pleased to know you, Kei Nagase," Risa replied, her smile never fading, "Welcome to Sky Kid Café."


	12. High Roller - Spare Time for the Spares

"Really? That bastard actually pull that shit off?" I asked, my ears couldn't believe what Count just told me. Count nodded with a furious look on his face.

"Yeah. That asshole Bandog tagged Full Band's plane as an enemy and told me to shoot him down." Count said with venom in his voice, "He _claimed_ it was an accident. Bullshit, I'd say."

"I mean, the motivations were there," Trigger added, "Full Band was blabbering many times about getting his hands on classified intel. Bandog warned him to stop, telling him that it was his second strike and there won't be a third. Full Band being himself, he continued to piss Bandog off on purpose by leaking even more intel. It isn't far-fetched to think that Bandog wanted to silence him. Not to mention that Full Band was showing on my radar as an ally target, but apparently, he got tagged as an enemy for Count, who was the closest to Full Band at the time. That seemed too convenient."

"If you ask me, Full Band was just asking it for it," Avril noted, "Leaking sensitive info out in the middle of a warzone could've endangered everyone or even jeopardize the entire war effort. You guys could've been killed if the enemy intercepted the info leaked from Full Band's big mouth. If he had stayed silent, then there's no reason for Bandog to get him killed."

"I don't care. Whatever Full Band did wasn't a reason enough to kill him off!" Count retorted, "They could've just toss his sorry ass in permanent solitary when he gets back if he's a threat to them so much. Bandog just straight up have him killed. Even worse, he used _me_ to do his dirty work!"

"I have to side with Count here," I added, "Scrap Queen, you saw how those assholes at Zapland treated us. Both McKinsey and Bandog, they don't care whether we live or die. All those sorties they sent us on were suicide missions already. Wasn't that enough? They have to get us killed on purpose, too? Even when we're already dropping like flies for them already?"

Even I was disgusted by how Bandog treated Full Band. I can deal with the fact that he probably didn't care at all that I was shot down in the least because I already expected that from them, but this was a whole new low. Those assholes didn't like us and we're sure as hell didn't like them, but at least we trusted them to at least try to keep us alive so we could do their work for them. If we can't even trust our allies to keep us alive, then why the hell are we even flying for those assholes? It's not like we had anything more to lose, anyway.

"You know, there's something that doesn't add up for me," Trigger spoke up, "Full Band was flying a Super Hornet, which coincidentally was identical to what those enemy planes were flying when they ambushed us in the mountains, except _none of us know_ that we were going to be attacked. If Bandog was planning to get rid of Full Band, he couldn't have planned it during the mission itself."

"I don't know, Trigger, he was pretty agitated when we told him to update our IFFs," Count said, "Don't you remember? He said 'Goddamn it, not right now!' when Full Band asked him to tell us what the hell was going on, and he also warned me not to get too chatty or I'd die. He also specifically asked for Full Band's location, and I'm pretty sure I heard that bastard chuckle when he got his position. Why would he did all that if he wasn't arranging Full Band's death in the meantime?"

"So you're implying he came up with all this on the fly when the enemies showed up?" Avril asked.

"He seemed genuinely panicked when we were ambushed," Trigger noted, "Still, I noticed that he went silent for a while when Tabloid suggested about forming up on my plane as if he was contemplating something. If he really was behind Full Band's death, that's most likely the moment he came up with the plan to fake the IFFs."

"I'm willing to bet that Bandog was actually an Erusean spy," I said, "Why else would he want to silence Full Band? He wanted to cover his ass! It'd also explain why all the enemy planes were coincidentally flying the same plane as him!"

"That makes no goddamn sense," Avril frowned, "If Bandog really was a spy, he would've actively hinder your missions on purpose and would not let any of you come back alive. He'd have no reason to go along with Tabloid's plan to update the IFF and just let you all get shot down by the enemies."

"Either way, we still have no proof," Trigger added, "It could've all been an accident just like he claimed as well. Things got pretty hectic out there."

"What more proof do you need? You said it yourself: Bandog had a motivation to kill Full Band!" Count argued, "Don't try to justify what that bastard did to him. You two are better than that."

"Alright, alright, enough already!" Avril spoke up in annoyance, "You two dumbasses are like children. Whether Bandog was responsible for Full Band's death or not, it doesn't matter anymore. The guy's long gone, and arguing about whose fault is it is not gonna bring him back."

"Well, you never know, he might still be alive," I said jokingly, trying to lighten up the mood, "I mean, _I_ survived, didn't I?"

"Honestly, I don't think anything can kill you at this point," Trigger chuckled, "It's too bad about the rest of our buddies in the 444th, though. I never got to know them that much during my time in the Spares."

"Yeah. Have to admit, I kinda missed them," Count added, "You hadn't been with them as long as I did, Trigger. They were assholes, yes, but at least we were all in this shit together."

"I used to hang around a lot with Champ," I said, "That jerk really lived up to his callsign. He always boasted about how good he was and how we're all second rates pilots who couldn't hope to match him. Heh, so full of shit, that guy."

"How did he get himself into that hellhole in the first place?" Avril asked, "I never knew that guy much myself."

"He claimed he stole a jet fighter for a joyride," I told her, "You know how he was. That idiot will do anything that gets his blood boiling. The stunt he pulled that got him arrested was trying to pull a Cobra between two buildings in Bana City. It's a goddamn miracle he didn't crash into something."

"Heh, that's totally something he'd do," Trigger agreed, "Too bad he just had to get too carried away in Yinshi Valley. He should've fled when Mr. X engaged him instead of getting into a dogfight."

"Yeah, even I have to agree that was a dumb move," Count added, "Even if we didn't know who Mr. X was at the time, Champ was trying to fight someone who's flying a better plane than his in the middle of a ravenous canyon during a thunderstorm. He was just asking to be shot down."

"That guy had always been arrogant," I said, "Still, he used to piss McKinsey off a lot when we were at the 444th Air Base, so he's good in my book. I quite enjoyed the antics he pulled on that asshole of a base commander. No amount of solitary time would make him learn his lesson. He would always come back for more."

"Yeah, he was definitely one of the more stubborn Spare members," Trigger said, "Remember how he cut through us when we were preparing to take off at the base back then? He actually told the control tower guys to go to hell. Good times."

"You guys have a very twisted definition of 'good times'." Avril frowned.

"Gotta find the fun wherever you can get it, girl," I told her, "It's probably the only way we could mess around while flying for those assholes."

"As long as it doesn't get yourself killed as Full Band did," Avril replied, "What's that guy's story, anyway?"

"I suppose it probably had something to do with him messing around where he shouldn't which landed him in the Spares," Count guessed, "Damn bastard always tried to hack into any computer he came across. Always saying that 'intel gives him an edge' or some shit like that. I just wish that he hadn't pushed his luck too far."

"You know, he actually told me that the reason he was convicted didn't even have anything to do with hacking," I told the group, "He claimed some fatass named Perrault cheated him out of a business deal. They got into a fight over it. Bad move for him. Turned out Perrault was a Colonel in the OADF, and he used his connections with McKinsey to land Full Band in the Spares. Heh, looks like he didn't think it through."

"Guess that explained why he always went out of his way to troll authorities like McKinsey and Bandog; the entire reason he got put into the Spares was because some jerkass officer put him there," Count noted, "Also, wasn't Perrault the guy that Blaze mentioned to be his former base commander earlier? Said he was a real nasty piece of work back in the day."

"Well, if he's pals with McKinsey, then it's no surprise that he's a dick," I added, "Glad to know that we weren't the only one to deal with a stupid glory hound corrupt officer. Heh, poor Full Band."

"To be honest, I would've felt sorry for him more if he didn't make fun of dead people all the time," Trigger admitted, "I mean, he certainly didn't shed any tears when you got shot down, High Roller. He made fun of me 'killing' Harling every chance he got, and he insulted Champ that he died crying like a baby and called him a coward. He's kinda dickish if you ask me."

"Well, you ain't wrong. Even if I was pissed that Bandog caused his death, I can't deny that Full Band kinda had it coming," Count added, "I mean, he's a funny guy most of the time, but some of his jokes were quite inappropriate given the situations we were in back then. I would've liked him more if he toned it down a bit."

"Heh, as if you didn't have your own moments like this back then, Count!" I joked while slapping my hand on Count's back, "I still remember how you betted that Trigger wouldn't last two minutes in the air when he first joined us in Zapland!"

"Wait, you actually betted on me getting myself killed!?" Trigger frowned at Count.

"Ancient history!" Count quickly said, "I admit, I was kind of an asshole back then, Trigger, but I'm not like that anymore. I'm a changed man, I swear!"

"Just 'kind of', huh?" Avril teased.

"Well, to be honest, we were all kinda assholes back then," I admitted, "Except Tabloid, though. That guy was a saint compared to the rest of us."

"Yeah, Tabloid. Wonder what he did to get himself landed in the Spares. He didn't seem like the type of person who would commit serious crimes." Count said.

"He said he was convicted for stating an honest opinion," Avril added, "He threw a rock - just _one_ rock – at an office building in protest of the war. Apparently, that's all it took for him to be labeled as an anarchist and he was convicted. Heh, Osean jurisdiction system is a goddamn joke."

"You said he was a Belkan, right?" Trigger asked, "I wouldn't be surprised if the judges were deliberately trying to get him convicted. A lot of people hold prejudice against Belkans for everything they pulled in the past. Even the Eruseans didn't like them much if what we witnessed on Tyler Island is any indication."

"You sure he didn't do anything more serious?" Count said, "I mean, he had to do something more serious than throwing a rock that warranted him being landed in the Spares, right? It didn't make sense if he got what's basically a death sentence simply for stating an opinion."

"I don't know. He never really tell me much about his past," I shook my head, "I was wondering to know more about the guy myself. Too bad I never got the chance now that he's gone."

"I think I have a theory," Trigger began, "Tabloid said he was Belkan, right? And during our mission to bomb the Artiglio Port, he said that those stupid wars happened because countries existed. That sounded very similar to the idea proposed by A World With No Boundaries, a terrorist organization formed just after the Belkan War ended. They were aiming to remove borders between countries by nuking the shit out of half the planet and hoping that whatever survived the fallout would unite together as one."

"So you're saying Tabloid got convicted because he shared his ideal with that of a terrorist organization?" I asked.

"Well, Osea has always been sensitive when it comes to possible foreign threats, especially if it involves Belkans. It's not that far-fetched to think that they'd take Tabloid's seemingly harmless protest completely dead serious," Trigger explained, "Ever since the last war, they became paranoid of just about everyone else on the planet gunning after them.. Hell, why else would they built two giant-ass flying weapon platforms just to protect the Lighthouse in the first place? And why they would just throw me into the Spares without actually investigate whether Harling's death was my fault or not."

"Then they're even more incompetent than I thought," Avril chuckled, "For all their paranoia, it sure didn't help them in the least when the Eruseans launched the first attacks that caught them completely by surprise and managed to somehow hijack the Arsenal Birds from under their noses. Heh, is Osea even capable of doing anything _right_ at all?"

"Heh, no comment on that," Trigger said, "It's a real shame about Tabloid, though. I like that guy. He was the only one who stuck around when I fought Mihaly in Yinshi Valley and was the one who came up with the idea of using my plane to update our IFFs in the Waiapolo Mountains and saved most of us, Full Band's incident notwithstanding. I wish he would have a chance to join the LRSSG as I and Count did."

"Yeah, he and Pops would have so much to talk about, what with them being fellow Belkans who _didn't_ have a thirst for blood like many of their countrymen," Avril noted with a sad voice, "Regardless of what he did that land him in the Spares, he more than redeemed himself when he sacrificed his life to save Georg and that girl."

"To Tabloid, then," I raised my glass, "May you fly forever in that borderless sky up there…ya anarchist bastard."

"To Spare Squadron," Count added, "We could've become a functional team if those guys were here with us. May they wear their sin lines with pride wherever they go, in this world or the next."

"To the dumbasses of the 444th," Avril announced, "The real unsung heroes of the Lighthouse War."

"Cheers!" Trigger spoke, and we all toasted in honor of our fallen friends.

Heh, Spare Squadron. What an ironic name. Those assholes McKinsey and Bandog could throw us into the grinder again and again without any care in the world because we're just 'spares' to them. We were meant to be expendable, and yet, without us – the war wouldn't have been over.

As much as they hate to admit it, they _need_ people like us – pilots who were given impossible tasks to do and have no choice but to pull it off if they hope to survive. They wouldn't waste those pansies in the regular forces on suicidal missions, no way, so they need people like us to do the jobs no one else wants to do. Well, at least Trigger did, anyway, but the point still stands.

Spare Squadron? _Savior_ Squadron, more like. We could've been more than a penal unit and they know it, but in the end, we're still just criminals to them, and so we never became anything more than expendable pawns that they could discard away like trash. We're people, too, damn it.

Well, at least the nightmare's over now.

"Say, High Roller, what's your story?" Trigger asked, "You didn't tell me about it yet."

"Yeah, I was wondering that, too," Avril added, "How come an extremely lucky gambling nutjob like you ended up in the Spares?"

Ah, shit, here we go again.

"Well, it's kinda embarrassing, really," I said sheepishly, "I won a nice luxury car from someone in a high stakes poker game, and then I proceeded to drunk driving it into the base I was stationed in and crashed it into my superior's quarters. He wasn't amused."

"That's it? I was hoping for something more," Count asked, "And did that really warranted you being put into the Spares?"

"I wasn't finished, man!" I frowned at Count before continuing: "See, here's the thing. I just happened to crash into my superior's quarters just when he was getting it on with his secret mistress, and here's the kicker: she was a dominatrix! And she was pulling some kinky moves on my boss right then, too! Damn, that was a sight to behold."

"Whoa," Trigger and Count exclaimed simultaneously, "I hope you took some pictures!"

"You dumbasses are unbelievable!" Avril facepalmed.

I just laughed before continuing, "So, yeah, you can probably guess what happened next. My boss chewed me out and swore me to keep it a secret, but I just can't resist sharing something like that, can I?! I got thrown into the Spares for it after he found out, but damn! It was so freaking worth it."

"That has got to be the dumbest reason for getting convicted into a penal unit ever," Trigger said, "I love it."

Heh.

"So, what are you guys planning to do after all this?" Count asked.

"Hmm, I might probably get back to Osea and do some more gambling, see if my luck still holds up," I replied, "Or maybe I could actually try to be a decent pilot for once. We'll see how it goes."

"Chances are you're just gonna get yourself put into _another_ penal unit," Avril said.

"Hey, I gotta do what I do best, Scrap Queen," I grinned, "How 'bout you, anyway? What are you planning to do after this?"

"Well, that old guy Pops offered to hook me up with a friend of his who could teach me how to fly," Avril said, "Maybe I'll accept his offer. I had always wanted to fly so this could finally be the opportunity I'm waiting for."

"About damn time. I was just getting annoyed of you asking me what the color of the sky is already," Trigger joked, "You should go up there and see for yourself."

"Hey! It's not like I could fly anything with my broken leg, you dumbass!" Avril retorted, "Believe me, if my leg was working fine, I would've gone with you to chew you out personally in the sky, Trigger!"

"Heh, I don't think anyone up there could handle your swearing, Scrap Queen. Not even Mr. X himself," Count teased.

"What, afraid to get roasted by my sick burns, Sir Count?" Avril replied, "Just having Húxiān wasn't enough for you, eh?"

"Oh, come on!" Count's face suddenly went totally red, "That's a low blow!"

"Don't deny it, Count. You're head over heels with her, buddy," Trigger teased, "I was actually thinking that you two would make quite a cute couple, you know?"

"This isn't helping, Trigger!" Count retorted, before he finally sighed in defeat, "Ah, well, it's not like you two are wrong…Maybe I'll just…spend some time with Húxiān after all this. Getting to know her better and hopefully making it work between us."

"Heh, so my man finally admitted he's in love!" I teased him, "What was that you said to me back then, eh, Count? You betted that you'd always stay true to your Casanova ways, right? Heh, looks like I won the bet again!"

"Ah, jeez, you still remember that? I was just saying that as a joke!" Count sighed, "Seriously, High Roller, is there _anything_ you won't place your bets on?"

What can I say? I have to live up to my name, right?


	13. Blaze - Plans for the Future

Time flies when you're having fun.

After two hours of us just chilling around in the café, the young lady barkeep announced that it will be closing time soon. It's almost midnight now.

Nagase had introduced me to the barkeep earlier; a nice young lady with a particularly tragic past. She told me all about what she had done, tales of the infamous Yellow Squadron and how we reminded her of them. Her stories made me wish that I could have a chance to meet this Yellow Thirteen myself. I wanted to know how he managed to deal with all that pressure – the pain of losing his closest wingman and discovered that the two kids he bonded with actually hated him all along, the exhaustion of going up on sorties again and again with barely any time to rest and lack of plane maintenance. We were lucky to have Pops taking care of us, I don't know how Yellow Thirteen dealt with it.

Most of all, I wanted to know how it feels like to fight an opponent who can match and eventually gets the better of him in battle. I wonder how he felt in his final moments during his duel with the legendary ISAF pilot. Was he excited, furious, afraid, or content? I'd probably never get the answer, and that made me feel quite sad.

He could have been a great ally that I would be honored to fly with. Maybe even a friend.

_Friend…_

I looked around the café, observing as old friends and new friends alike were enjoying themselves and sharing stories of their adventures. It's been a while since I have a moment like this. I was still flying back then. I can't help but feeling a bit overwhelmed by nostalgia by all this.

Heh, even if I stopped flying because I didn't want to go through something like what I experienced back in the Circum-Pacific War again, I have to admit that a part of me still missed it: that experience of feeling like it's only you versus the entire world, and the only ones you can trust are your few friends. That feeling of camaraderie between us was what made those moments unforgettable despite all the horrors of war we've been exposed to.

Maybe I actually _do_ miss flying despite everything. Or maybe I just missed scenes like this where I hang out with my fellow pilots and share our experiences together, telling our own personal stories of what we've been through. There are lots of pretty good stories to be found in this world, and us ace pilots – no matter where we came from - have some of the best ones out there.

Speaking of stories…

"So, what are you planning to do after this?" Trigger asked after he left his group of friends in the 444th to join me at my table, "Will you be trying to find your father again?"

"I honestly don't know, really," I replied, "It's been over two decades now. I had pretty much forgotten about the guy already. I doubt he's even still alive at this point."

"Don't be ridiculous. The Demon Lord of the Round Table won't die that easily," Trigger said, "I'm sure he's out there somewhere. He's probably hoping that you could track him down."

"Some father he is, then. Leaving me and my mom alone for most of our lives and hoping that _I_ would be the one to track _him_ down? Heh. Not a freaking chance." I chuckled.

"At least you had a father," Trigger mumbled, "My father fought in the Usean coup d'etat and got himself killed in it. I was only about four back then,"

Trigger's face saddened a bit. He sighed before taking a sip from his glass of brandy, "Was his own fault, really. He was never really fond of Oseans, so when the Rebel Forces offered him an opportunity to fight them, he didn't hesitate to join them. All that accomplished was getting his ass shot down the next day."

"I'm truly sorry. I…never knew much about how my country was like back then. I never realized how awful we could be to our neighbors."

"Nah, it's not you guys' fault, really. Usea always has a knack for tearing itself apart on their own," Trigger replied, "Osea didn't really do anything besides offering that treaty, but we just had to go and make an entire war out of it. My father was killed because he just had to go fight in a stupid war pointlessly. I don't hold Osea accountable for what happened in Usea. That's why I didn't have any issue joining the Osea-led IUN Peacekeeping Force."

Trigger chuckled bitterly as he drowned in the rest of his drink before he continued,

"Besides, the Oseans didn't kill my father. A mercenary pilot did."

"Mercenary?" I asked, feeling a bit nervous.

"Don't fret yourself. It's not the Demon Lord," Trigger quickly clarified, "No, it's another guy. He fought for the Allied Forces against the Rebels. Nothing much is known about him except that he flew a plane with a distinctive flaming phoenix."

"Phoenix?"

"Well, it _looks_ like a phoenix," Trigger continued, "That guy was the one who shot my father's ass down in that war."

"So that's why you became a pilot, then? To find this mercenary who killed your father and avenge him?"

"Yes and no," Trigger chuckled, "As I said, my father's own stupidity was what got him killed. That mercenary was just doing his job, just like you and me. I've probably killed hundreds of fathers or their children in this war myself. No, the reason I wanted to meet this mercenary is to thank him."

"Thank him?"

"For making me who I am today," Trigger continued, "I was driven to become a pilot because of him. I wanted to know how it feels like to be someone so unstoppable, someone so talented at warfare that they left their mark on history, someone who earned the admiration of their allies and struck fear into their enemies, and how he deals with it all. Ace pilots like him, the Demon Lord of the Round Table, the Blue Ribbon of North Point, the Garudas of Emmeria, even you and your Razgriz friends…they are all inspirations to me."

"Inspirations can be good or bad, you know?" I explained, "On one hand, I appreciate that you learned a lot from us, from the battles that we had won and the mistakes that we had made, and you became a legendary pilot of your own as well, who then goes on to save the world. However, an ideal world is a world where people like us are not needed. Our talents for death and destruction will have no place in a world without conflicts. In fact, the reason that there are still people like us out there in the first place is probably why we'll most likely never achieve it."

"Even still, the world needs us right now," Trigger replied, "We never know when someone would be crazy enough to think that they can wage a war on the entire world, and when they show their ugly faces…the world needs someone like us to stop them. A talent for warfare is not the cause of conflict itself, and in the right hands, it can be used to end it."

"Fair point," I admitted, "But how can we fight forever? Would there even be an end for those pointless conflicts?"

"I plan to ask Phoenix this very question when I find him," Trigger answered with a grin on his face, "I suppose your father might be looking for the answer himself as well."

"What makes you think that?" I frowned.

"Call it a hunch. I think your father might not be returning home for a reason," Trigger said, "Maybe he thought that his fight isn't over, that the world still needed him to fly, and he cannot come home until he gets the job done."

"Or maybe he just abandoned me," I jokingly said, "Not everything has to be a puzzle box, you know? Sometimes, stuff like this happens. It's normal."

"Heh, when has anything in our crazy world is considered normal?" Trigger chuckled, "What I'm trying to say, man, is don't give up the hope that your father is still out there somewhere. He might have wanted to come back to you, but there's something preventing him from doing it."

"Even if I wanted to," I said, "Where would I even start looking? It's been decades since he was last seen in the sky."

Trigger nodded as he frowned at me as if he thought the answer should be obvious.

"So go back up there," He suggested, "Go find your father, ask your friends to help you if you have to. Find out why he didn't come back, then help him do whatever needs to be done so you all can go back home together. Wasn't that what motivated you to become a pilot in the first place?"

"Heh…"

When he put it that way, how am I supposed to retort?

I didn't even want to be a pilot until I learned that my father used to be none other than The Demon Lord of the Round Table. That made me join the OADF and got myself into that whole mess ten years ago. After that war, I thought it was time to move on. Why would I want to find my father after I was already content with my life?

And then Nagase left for space...and my other friends went their separate ways. Even if I still keep in touch with them, it didn't feel the same. I wonder if all retired ace pilots have been through this sort of thing: struggling to reconcile your new life with the memories of the bygone days.

And right now, at this very moment, everyone is suddenly back together again, enjoying their night in the café not unlike how I used to experience back in my pilot days. I suppose, in the end, I just couldn't keep my past away, after all.

"I'm not making any promises," I finally spoke, "I still have to take care of Nagase and consider our future together first. She just came back from space, after all, and I wanted to make sure that I'm there for her. Even so, I'll see if I can pick up the trace of that man again. Maybe Bartlett and Pops could help me out on it. They used to fly the same skies as him once, after all."

"That's a start," Trigger replied, "Just do what you think feels right for you. I could only just offer advice. You used to love flying because you wanted to find your father. Now ask yourself that question again and see if you still have the same answer."

He paused a bit as if to consider his words before he continued,

"You've been an idol to me, Blaze. Even if I was trying to one-up you with the stunts I pulled earlier, the truth is you still inspired me to join the air force and made me who I am today. That's why I wanted to help you find your edge again, and I believe finding your father could be a key to it."

"I appreciate the thought. Thank you for your advice, Trigger. It's been an interesting talk," I smiled. Heh, so Trigger is apparently a fanboy of me. Not sure what to make of it, but it sure feels nice.

"For the record, I never really lost my 'edge', you know?" I continued, my eyes glancing in the direction of my lovely wife, who's having a friendly chat with the barkeep, "That's my 'Edge' right over there."

"Really? You really had to make that pun?" Trigger gave me an annoyed glare, "God, you can be such a troll sometimes."

"Heh, you will be surprised how much of a troll I could be," I said proudly, "Back in the day, when people ask me questions, I only answered them with just 'yes' or 'no', or sometimes I didn't say anything at all. Annoyed my wingmen to no end, actually."

"You are a weird man, Blaze." Trigger.

"Wouldn't have it any other way." I grinned.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time we left the café, it was already midnight.

The barkeep saw us off as we walked out of her café, her farewell smile was directed at me and Nagase. We both smiled and waved back at her to say goodbye. Nagase promised her that she'll stay in contact as soon as the worldwide communication is fully restored. I admit a part of me is going to miss this place and the lady who owned it. I might actually try to come back here every once in a while.

"God, I'm…exhausted," Húxiān mumbled wearily as she was leaning half-asleep on Count as he supported her, "I can't...( _hiccups)_ …believe that I'm able… _(hiccups)_ …go through that many drinks in… _(hiccups)_ …in one night…"

"Jeez, Húxiān. That's it. I'm not letting you touch alcohol again for a month," Count said.

"Shaaadaaaap! I do what I want…stupid Count…"

"Heh, she seems pretty adorable like this," Brownie teased, "Actually, now that I think about it, you two are pretty adorable together!"

"S-Shut up!" Count cried out, while Húxiān just blushed furiously, "Y-you're the one to talk! You and that kid Grimm were being all lovey-dovey earlier, weren't you!?"

"We're not being lovey-dovey!" Grimm spoke out, even as his face went almost as red as Húxiān, "We're just getting to know each other!"

"Love birds, love birds everywhere!" Jaeger said, "My son will be so jealous when I tell him about this!"

"Wait, you tell this kind of stuff to your son!?" High Roller asked.

"What? I always tell my son everything. I thought my friends would let you know that already." Jaeger frowned.

"Looks like my advice worked out just fine, eh Grimm?" Snow teased. Grimm just gave him a light punch in the shoulder in response, "Told ya. You're a natural, kid."

"I expect that things will get wet, wild, and a lot dirtier soon," Clown grinned, "There's still a long night to go for those lovebirds."

"Goddamn, Clown. Never knew you were like this, man," Bartlett said, "And I thought _I_ have a dirty mind…"

"Heh, he's always been like this," Knocker added, "You should see this one time he tried to charm a lady flight instructor back during his academy days. Almost got slapped for his trouble."

"But I _did_ get her number!" Clown retorted, "I gotta do what I gotta do, buddy. Never let me down so far. Well, except for McOnie, anyway."

"Heh, you still have much to learn, my young apprentice," Bartlett said in a deep voice as if he was mimicking that cliché mentor archetype character from movies.

"Just who the hell are these people that you made friends with, Trigger!?" High Roller cried, "This is weird even by _our_ standards, man!"

"Don't resist the weird. Just embrace it," Trigger calmly slapped his hand on High Roller's left shoulder, "Life's more interesting that way."

"God, I'm surrounded by idiots…" Avril groaned, "Ugh, I really need to go to sleep and pretend this entire conversation never happened…"

"On that, we can agree with," Pops sighed, "I'm getting way too old for this…"

I just couldn't help but laugh along with all those people' antics. Even Nagase managed to let out some giggles herself. She seemed to be in quite an upbeat mood after having a talk with the kind barkeep earlier. It always warms my heart to see her looking so happy like that.

Suddenly, a thunderous roar echoed throughout the area. I looked up and saw a lone jet fighter soaring through the starlit midnight sky. The jet fighter gradually slowed down as it circled directly over us as if it was observing us. As the fighter slowed down, I could recognize that it was an F-22 Raptor. It probably had just taken off from the San Profetta Airport located not far from here.

I continued to stare at that Raptor and took a glance at the tail of the plane. Even though the night was dark, I could still make out an emblem painted on the tail wing of the raptor.

 _A blue ribbon_.

Finally, the jet fighter began picking up speed and flew away into the west, emitting a sonic boom as it went out of my sight.

"What the hell was that pilot thinking?!" Clown groaned, "It's freaking midnight! Did he want to wake up everyone in the city!?"

"Probably some jerk the IUN sent to patrol the airspace," Knocker guessed, "Flying solo, uh? This guy thinks he's some big shot or something?"

"Nah, I'm pretty sure he's nobody important. Nothing you guys should worry about." Bartlett spoke up, but then I saw him gave a playful wink at Pops, who just gave him a cheesy smile. Heh, so those two actually knew who that pilot was as well.

The Blue Ribbon...I could've sworn my eyes didn't deceive me. I actually just saw the Blue Ribbon of North Point flying past us by. Why did he slow down and circled us for a while? I'm sure he was observing us earlier, but why?

"So you saw it too, didn't you?" Nagase asked me, "That plane…it has a blue ribbon on it, just like how the barkeep described it."

"Yeah, no doubt about it. It's actually him," I replied, "What do you think he's doing here?"

"Probably visiting his 'friend', I suppose," Nagase gestured back to the café that we just left, "That place used to be his favorite hangout place, after all."

"He has a nice way of greeting his 'friend', I must say," I smiled as Nagase walked up through me and cling on to my left arm as she laid her head on my shoulder affectionately.

"This world sure is full of interesting people," Nagase said softly, "All those ace pilots and the stories they have…I'm really glad I get to know quite a few of them tonight."

"Yeah. I have to admit all these really reminded me of the good old days," I replied, "It has been quite a journey, huh?"

"Yes. Indeed it is." Nagase gave me a smile.

We just stood there watching the sky together for a while before Nagase spoke up.

"You seem troubled, Blaze," Nagase asked, her voice sounded concerned, "Is there anything wrong?"

"Nah, it's just…You remember the conversations we had about my father?"

"Ah, you mean the Demon Lord of the Round Table?" Nagase said, "What about him?"

"I just talked with Trigger earlier," I began, "He encouraged me to try to find him again. He thought it could get me back up into the air again."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Nagase asked, "You used to love flying so much back then."

"I already told you, Kei. I'm afraid of going back up there," I said, "I'm afraid that something bad will happen again if I go back to flying."

"Yet deep down, it's what you wanted to do," Nagase replied in a kind voice, "Deep down, you wanted to know what really happened to your father, and you wanted to fly because you believe it will help you find him."

Nagase let go of me before using her arms to turn me to face her. We stared into each other's eyes as she continued:

"I know how you feel, Blaze. How you stopped flying because you're afraid that it will take away the things that you love, but isn't flying what you love as well? You took up flying because you wanted to find your father. You gave it all up so you could be with me, but in the end, I just couldn't resist going back up there myself – even if I know I'm putting myself into danger beyond anything I've been through in the war back then. Yellow Four didn't stop flying because her plane was damaged – she went up there because she wanted to be with her flight lead. And her flight lead didn't give up flying just because she was gone – because he cherished the idea of fighting a worthy opponent that gave him a fight of his life."

Nagase took my hands into hers before giving me a warm smile,

"No matter what you decide, I will always follow you, Blaze. I've already left you behind once before, and I swore on my life that I will _never_ let it happen again. I will follow you to the ends of the Earth if I have to if it means you get to follow what you really desired."

She moved her face close to me and sealed my lips with a gentle kiss. We stayed like that for a while before finally parting.

"Because I love you, Blaze, and that alone is a reason enough." She finished with a bright smile on her face.

Heh, Nagase will always be Nagase. She's just so stubborn like that, and it's why I love her so much.

I wrapped Nagase into a tight embrace. It's time I made the decision that I've been uncertain for so long.

"I'm going to find him, Kei. I'm going to find out what happened to him," I whispered into her ear, "And then I'll drag that old bastard home and introduce you to him properly as his daughter-in-law, and we could finally take that well-earned rest at long last."

"And I'll support you wherever you go to find him," Nagase whispered back to me, "I figured your father would be quite stubborn, so he probably needs some convincing from this equally stubborn daughter-in-law."

"Heh, he'd probably ran back home with his tail between his legs in an instant," I chuckled.

Time to make this more official, then.

I bent down my left knee on the ground, my right leg supporting me for balance as I reached out my right hand to grab her hands firmly. It's like I'm proposing to her all over again.

"Will you honor me by flying at my side once again, Kei Nagase?" I asked as I stared into the beautiful eyes of the woman I love.

"Absolutely, my dearest," Nagase nodded with a joyful smile on her face, "I will always be your wingman, Blaze, now and forever."

I stood up and wrapped Nagase in my arms as I carried her bridal-style back to our car.

Turned out we didn't have to walk far, though, as our friends had already driven their rental cars here!

"That was the most romantic thing I've ever seen…" Knocker grinned, "I'll treasure this moment until the day I die."

"Amen, brother. Amen." Clown added.

"You know? I think I'm actually tearing up right now," Snow said, "Damn it, Blaze, you continue to surprise me as always."

"Couldn't agree more!" Grimm added, "That was absolutely stunning, Captains!"

"Oh my God, I'm fangirling so hard right now!" Brownie cried out cheerfully, "You two are so adorable together!" 

"HOW LONG HAVE YOU GUYS BEEN HERE!?" I shouted. I could feel my face heating up like a hot air balloon right now.

"Long enough to saw you two smooching each other like you're in a Sapinian romance flick," Avril giggled, "Damn, I wish someone could kiss me like that."

I took a sharp look at Bartlett, who's grinning like an idiot in the driver's seat of our car.

"Hey, don't look at me! I tried to tell them to give you two some privacy, but then Trigger just had to take off first and we all ended up following him back here." Bartlett explained.

"What the hell, Jack!? _You_ were the one who took off first!" Trigger retorted from another car, "You said you wanted to catch them in the act. Don't go blaming me for your fetishes!"

"That proposal stance was a nice touch," Count spoke up, "Could use a bit more weight on your left knee, but yours worked just fine. That bridal carry was on point, though."

"Heh, you're just jealous, Count! Admit it, you _wish_ you could do something like this to Húxiān one day, eh?" High Roller grinned.

"S-shut up! Keep it down, you idiot!" Count cried out before turning to look at the woman who's sleeping soundly beside him in the seat next to him. Looked like Húxiān passed out from all the drinking she did.

"Heh, I'm sure she'll be quite upset tomorrow when she learns what she missed tonight." Jaeger chuckled, "Poor, poor Húxiān."

"You people are unbelievable!" Nagase cried out, but she's actually giggling uncontrollably as well. At least she's taking it better than I did.

Okay, forget about finding my father for the moment. The immediate problem I have right now is how the hell I and Nagase are gonna live _this_ down.

This Night In San Salvacion is not something any of us would forget any time soon.


	14. Mobius One - The Cost of Victory

I will never get used to the feeling of being the only pilot in the briefing room.

One of the drawbacks of being too good at your job, I suppose. Ever since the end of the Continental War, the high command has seen fit to make a one-pilot squadron out of myself and decided that I alone would be enough to deal with any subsequent conflict with only Sky Eye assisting me.

Sure, there _are_ allied pilots once in a while, but they might as well not be there at all with me practically doing everything by myself. I don't really want to sound like an egotistic jerk, but when you leave almost everything in the hands of one single pilot, it's no surprise that anyone barely gets anything done when the pilots aren't there to help. Oseans learned this the hard way when the Four Wings of Sand Island disappeared late into the Circum-Pacific War, and operations the pilot with the Three Strikes did not participate in have a higher rate of casualties in the Lighthouse War. They should really look at the Emmerians for example. At least they don't let _their_ pilots do everything by themselves.

Is this what Yellow Thirteen felt back then? I wonder how he and his wingmen felt when they were the ones being bossed around by the Erusean High Command to sortie pretty much all the time to engage ISAF with barely any time to rest or repair their planes. Despite it being years since then, I couldn't shake away the thought that I didn't fight them at their best when we had our showdown over Farbanti. The fatigue of being the one to carry your whole nation's weight on your back is not a burden one could easily bear, especially when everything you do can't seem to change the outcome of the war because it was hopeless from the start.

I sighed as I take in the sight of the snowy scenery of San Profetta Airport in front of me. Only fifteen minutes to go before sortie, yet to me, it felt like forever. Sky Eye was already back at his AWACS plane preparing his crew, and my mechanics are already making final checks on my Raptor in the hangar, so I was here taking the time to be by myself. Goddamn, I envy those guys at that Sky Kid Café. I understand that they had just gone through hell and did their fair share of work during the war so they kind off earned their rest, but damn, I really wish that I didn't have to do this by myself again.

Apparently, we're going to be taking on Free Erusea again! As if that is something one should be excited about. They just never seem to quit, do they? What's worse is that this time, they managed to take control of the Megalith as their base of operations, of all things.

Luckily, it seems my assault on the base back then rendered its ICBM launching capabilities permanently destroyed, so there should be no worry about that. What's not so fortunate is that they apparently turned the entire base into a drone manufacturing facility instead. The sudden communications loss after the satellite disaster meant no one was able to realize what they were up to until just recently, which means they had a lot of time to dig in and fortify themselves. We don't know just what the hell are they doing inside the fortress or their fighting capabilities. We're going in almost completely blind.

The leader of the opposition is one Aldrich Ducard, a former General of the Erusean Army and a Continental War veteran. According to intel provided in the briefing, the guy was the brains behind many of Erusea's successful campaigns back then. He was the one who came up with the idea of capturing the Stonehenge and using it as a weapon, as well as directly numerous blitzkrieg campaigns on multiple fronts to prevent anybody from forming a meaningful resistance. He disappeared soon after the war ended, and it's only recently that it's confirmed that he's been behind all those Free Erusea uprisings that I had to deal with.

Guy's as cunning as a fox if I have to wager I guess. We crossed paths so many times before, he's bound to learn everything there is to know about me and how I operate by now, and that means he _will_ be prepared for it. That's why high command decided to request ground support from the _OFS Admiral Andersen_ to assist in the assault as well. If air assault isn't enough to deal with this general, then this time ground assault may change our fortune for the better.

Either way, this is going to be a rough battle.

"Feeling nervous, colonel?"

A voice spoke behind me.

I turned to look at the speaker. It was the new commander of the IUN-PKF: an OGDF Lieutenant General. He had a rather grim expression on his face, suggesting a no-nonsense and weary attitude. His greying hair and mustache suggested he's a rather old soldier who must've gone through some serious campaigns in his younger days. He had an air that commanded respect and discipline, that's for sure.

"Lieutenant General Shepherd. I didn't realize you were coming, sir." I greeted.

The lieutenant general nodded slightly, "Just checking in on my pilot, colonel. By the way, congratulations on your promotion."

I chuckled a little, "To be honest, sir, I don't think I really deserve it. Escorting cargo planes back to base safely is a job anyone can do. It doesn't really warrant a promotion, sir."

"Not when you had to tackle an Arsenal Bird by yourself," Shepherd replied, his voice sounded impressed, "I heard the boys in North Point said you actually would have won had that damn thing didn't keep deploying its shield, and even then you damaged it enough to actually pose a genuine threat. That's a feat only one other pilot managed to achieve."

"Speaking of him, I'd imagine he'd be someone you'd like to take on this mission, sir. I'm actually surprised he and his friends aren't here." I noted. Shepherd just shook his head in response.

"I don't trust Three Strikes, or any of his friends, for that matter. That man is a loose cannon. He has a tendency to play fast and loose with the rules and is too reckless for his own good. I need someone who could play by the rules, who could jump as high as I want them to, not lower or higher. You are one such pilot, and Three Strikes isn't. That's why you're here and not him."

"Respectfully, sir, he won the war for us," I retorted, somehow feeling the need to defend a fellow ace pilot, even if I barely knew anything about him. Maybe it's just silent respect between pilots that only we could understand, "Sometimes we have to do what's necessary to win. Fight fire with fire. It was his unorthodox ways that allowed him to survive the hell in the penal unit after he was wrongfully convicted, turned the tide on the entire might of the Erusean Military, and even saved the world from an advanced AI uprising that nobody could've prevented, not even me."

 _All while dealing with the grossly incompetent officials in the Osean High Command, if I may add_. I finished my thought silently. It wouldn't be too good saying this in front of an Osean general, after all.

"I won't deny that Three Strikes did perform exceptionally during the war. Hell, I'd be the first to admit that without him, we won't be here today," Shepherd said, "That doesn't mean I have to trust him. Being a war hero doesn't mean he gets to play by his own rules all the time, but that's exactly what he and his friends ended up doing most of the time during the war. His refusal to continue providing cover for General Labarthe's helicopter after he left Anchorhead led to the man's death along with many good Osean soldiers, and what was he doing instead? Protecting some unimportant Erusean aircraft that wasn't even part of the mission. And don't get me started on how he led his friends in an unsanctioned operation on the neutral country of Shilage and stole all their supplies when they could've easily returned to Osea to regroup. That could've caused a major diplomatic incident, but I suppose he and his friends wouldn't care either way."

I stayed silent. I could tell that the man already made up his mind about Three Strikes and there's no changing it. I just sighed a little in response.

"Well, I'm here to do whatever you want me to, general," I told him, even if deep down I didn't really mean it and just said it as a courtesy, "You won't have to worry about me going off to do something that I shouldn't. You give me a mission and I'll see to it that it is done to the best of my capabilities, sir."

"And that's the reason why I trust you, colonel. We need more soldiers like you," For once, Shepherd let out a small smile, "These days, there are fewer and fewer people you can trust. Yesterday's allies could just as easily be tomorrow's enemies. We might think we'd won the war, but when you bring down one enemy, sooner or later there'd be someone even worse to replace them."

Shepherd paused a little as he lit his cigar and puffed out a cloud of smoke before continuing.

"Tell me, colonel, are you familiar with an Erusean captain named Matias Torres?"

"Never heard of him. Who's that?"

"To put simply, he's the craziest son of a bitch we've ever had the misfortune to contend with during the war. He's a lot like your current target General Ducard, except he's even more unhinged," Shepherd explained, "This man Torres was fighting his own war and he had no rules, no boundaries. He doesn't flinch at the deaths of millions. He's not loyal to a flag or country or any set of ideals. He was a rabid dog, plain and simple, and he knew how to use the resources he had to cause as much chaos as he could while gleefully laughing like a maniac that he is."

Shepherd turned to look at me with a frown on his face.

"What's interesting is that you have fought him once before, colonel," He continued, "He was the captain of the battleship _Tanager_ , the flagship of the Aegir Fleet, at Comberth Harbor."

"The Invincible Fleet?" I spoke as I tried to recall the events back then. I definitely remember fighting the Aegir Fleet, the so-called 'Invincible Fleet' as the Eruseans called it, but I never did remember how many ships I sank that day. I vaguely remembers the name _Tanager_ , but that's all I knew about it, really. This was the very first time I even knew about the captain of that ship.

"You sank his ship along with many others in Operation Rough Seas during the Continental War. He survived the sinking while also rescuing as many sailors as he could, and he became a public hero of Erusea," Shepherd explained, "Somewhere along the line, though, he went crazy, and after several years being in command of the prototype submarine named _Alicorn_ , he and his crew went rogue and attempted to nuke Oured with his nuclear warheads. We barely managed to stop him."

"The _Alicorn_. Now that's the name I'm more familiar with," I said, "The rediscovery of the gigantic sub after being lost for two years in the Spring Sea made the headlines all over the world, and there were so much drama and conspiracy surrounding the _Alicorn_ for quite a long while. I never would have imagined they'd actually put it into use, though. That thing is a weapon of mass destruction if I've ever seen one."

"Yes, and it eventually ended up in the hands of a madman. Someone who we never would have expected to turn out to be such a dangerous threat years ago," Shepherd added, "The more things change, the more they stay the same, colonel. Just when we thought we were done fighting an enemy, all of a sudden they struck without warning and kick us below the belt. First, it was the Grey Men who drove us to war with the Yukes, then Erusea stabbed us in the back when we tried to help them, and just when we thought we were done with Matias Torres and the drone uprising, Aldrich Ducard resurfaced and plotted to threaten the very peace we've just created. It just goes on to prove my point: trust is a luxury and I won't waste it on loose cannons until they are put into their places, otherwise they'd start believing they can get away with anything and eventually turn rogue on us. You want to teach a vicious dog, you have to keep a tight leash on it, or put it down before it becomes a threat. That's how we're going to win this neverending battle."

"Trust goes both ways, sir. Your soldiers wouldn't want their superiors to treat them as tools as well," I told him. It's about time I give myself a piece of my mind for once, "On the battlefield, you can't always expect things to go according to plan. And when things go awry, which they often do, the only people we could rely on are the men fighting next to us. If you want their loyalty, general, you have to make sure they have the best chance to return home alive and not sending them to die without a good reason. You can't win a war if your soldiers don't have the will to fight."

"Maybe so, colonel, but they're still soldiers, and I expect them to act like one. It's what they sign up for," Shepherd replied coldly, "You can't win a war without sacrifices. We both know what it costs to be in this line of work. Maybe it'd cost us a piece of ourselves. It will cost nothing compared to everything we'd save. That's why it's our duty to remind our soldiers of that, and it's _their_ duty to perform to the best of their abilities to achieve the ultimate victory."

Just then, Shepherd slapped his hand on my shoulder firmly to reaffirm his message, his icy eyes stared straight at me like eyes of a tiger, aggressive yet focused. I felt a small chill running up my spine, something that I rarely felt even during the most heated dogfights in my career. I could tell that Shepherd was definitely not someone I want to cross, or worse, someone I had to watch out for.

"History is written by the victors, colonel. For victory, no cost is too high. I know you understand." He said, cracking a small smile that provided no comfort once again, "Now, I believe it's time to prepare for your sortie. Good luck on your mission, colonel."

"Thank you, sir."

I saluted Shepherd and watch as the man dropped his cigar into the nearby bin before walking away towards the silent terminal building, probably off to treat his soldiers like pawns on his chessboard once again. I sighed deeply once he went out of sight. If this man is going to be my superior in the IUN after this, chances are I'm going to have to watch my back.

_Don't trust Shepherd._

I don't know why, but that same message kept replaying in my mind again and again even as I climbed into my cockpit.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Take your sweet time down there, eh, Colonel?"

AWACS Sky Eye chirped cheerfully through the radio as I finally completed my takeoff from San Profetta Airport. He always seems to be in high spirits every time we go on a sortie. How the hell does he do it?

"Ugh, I could never get used to anyone calling me by that rank, Sky Eye," I replied in an annoyed voice, "Seriously, I'm just escorting cargo planes through the enemy lines. Those brave pilots deserved promotion much more than I did."

I paused for a moment as I take a look at my surroundings. The city of San Salvacion was still bustling with activity in some areas, probably civilians who were still celebrating the end of the war, though most of the lights in the city were extinguished now. It won't be long until the entire city fell asleep for the night. Aside from Sky Eye's E-767, no other plane was seen in the sky.

"At least they didn't decide to give me a squadron to go with the promotion." I continued, "I won't know how to really command one, to be honest."

"Yeah, well, about that…" Sky Eye spoke up. He hesitated a bit before continuing, and I already knew I wasn't going to like what he's about to tell me.

"Lieutenant General Shepherd ordered that you are going to be given a temporary command of an LRSSG squadron currently flying patrol over Spring Sea. You'll take command as soon as we rendezvous with them over there," Sky Eye explained, "Seems like he wants to test your abilities as a squadron leader in combat."

As if there wasn't enough reason for me to distrust Shepherd already, now he did to me.

"Why wasn't I informed about this during the briefing?!" I asked in frustration. I'm already in the air and I just received this important information? What the hell was Shepherd thinking!?"

"Hey, hey, relax. You just do what you always do, Mobius One," Sky Eye reassured, "Remember the last time we assaulted Megalith? You had a squadron back then, too, but they all pulled their own weight while you did your job. This time it'd be no different. I'll support you just like always, buddy."

That cracked me up a little. Heh, what would I do without Sky Eye being up there watching my back every time we went on a sortie. Hell, I actually refused two AWACS who was supposed to replace him by the end of Operation Katina. That's how much faith I have in his abilities.

"Thanks, Sky Eye," I told him, "It's always good to have you flying with me, buddy, regardless of who else I must be flying with."

"Well, someone has to keep your ass from getting shot down," Sky Eye chuckled, "Just do me a favor and win this, okay? I have to miss my son's birthday party for this, you know?"

"You left your son on his birthday!?"

"Hey, he's old enough to blow the candles by himself. The fate of the world can't wait," Sky Eye replied, "Besides, what better present I could give him than a peaceful tomorrow?"

"Heh, always have everything figured out. I wouldn't expect anything less from you." I chuckled, can't help but grinning through the oxygen mask at my friend's comment. This is one of the reasons why I trust him so much. When Sky Eye is on the job, he fully devotes himself to it. No distractions. He'd save all the jovial attitudes when he's free off-duty, which made it all the more worth it when we all accomplished our missions and get back to base safe and sound.

As for me, though, I admit I'm still kind of getting distracted by something every once in a while.

That certain something happened to be the 'meeting of aces' party held at the little café I walked away from just earlier tonight.

"Sky Eye, could you give me a minute over the city, please?" I spoke out as I sped up my plane a bit, before slowing down as I approached the Old Town neighborhood of the city.

"Granted, Mobius One. Is there something wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just…I wanted to check something out for a while." I said as I scanned my eyes toward the ground below. The Sky Kid Café should be somewhere right below me. I spotted it a few seconds later, just as the lights in the café went out. Looks like it's closing hours at last.

Not very far away from the café, I noticed a large group of people walking under the dimmed lamp lights in the park below. I slowed my plane down as much as I could and started to fly in circles above them.

Even among the darkness, I could still recognize some people down there. Jack Bartlett and Wolfgang 'Pops' Buchner being among them. I could recognize the pilot with the Three Strikes, as well as the Razgriz pilots walking down below. They were all standing down there staring at me, probably wondering just what the hell a single Raptor plane was disturbing the peace and quiet of this little town.

 _So, Three Strikes. You're so full of surprise, aren't you?_ I thought to myself, _Bartlett never told me about how you sank the Alicorn – and Matias Torres along with it_.

_And you, the Ghosts of Razgriz, how does it feel like to suffer from the sins of what happened a long time ago in the past?_

How do those pilots cope with all these wars and conflicts that never seem to end? How do they manage to rest easy even while knowing that fighting could break out again at any moment? Is Shepherd actually has a point when he said that the only way to prevent conflict was to keep everybody in line or make an example of them when they won't comply?

Is that what peace is going to cost us? Are we even ready to pay that price?

Whatever their answers maybe, I'd have to find out another day.

Hopefully, by then, we could all be flying together in these borderless skies.

"Alright, Sky Eye, I'm done here," I reported to my AWACS as my aircraft began picking up speed again, leaving the puzzled looks of those familiar pilots behind as I move on to yet another mission I have to complete. Yet another conflict I must end.

"Copy that, Mobius One," Sky Eye confirmed, "Let's get this thing done and go home. A brand new day is waiting for us tomorrow."

Heh, ever the optimist, that Sky Eye.

And so, we blasted off into the darkness once again, clinging on to whatever light we could find and hope that it will lead us down the right path.

After all, what else can we do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I was planning to have David North in this chapter as well, but when I was writing the first draft with him in it, I came to the realization that he's not really needed here in this chapter. He will appear in a future story, that's for sure, but not right now. Right now, it's "DON'T TRUST SHEPHERD" time xD.


	15. Wit - A Night Above the Spring Sea

The sky felt so calm tonight. It's hard to believe that there used to be a war just barely a month ago.

I switched my plane to autopilot as I let in the sight of the stars above me, feeling relieved that against all odds I managed to survive that unpleasant experience at the Lighthouse and get to enjoy flying among my friends once again. There's nothing like the calmness of flying in the starlit midnight sky, with the light from the moon reflecting the surface of the dark blue sea down below. What a breathtaking sight.

"Man, I can't believe this!" Skald frustrating voice shouted out of the radio, "Why does Strider Squadron gets to go on a break and _we_ have to be out here!?"

And there it is, some idiot to ruin the peace…

"They did their fair share of work already during the war," Lanza replied back, "Apparently, high command thought we were being too lazy and didn't contribute enough to the war effort."

"Well, their fault for not letting us getting involved with anything!" Skald said, "I mean, ever since Count and Huxian transferred to Strider, we didn't really get to do anything at all."

"Why the hell do we keep changing formations again?" Lanza asked, "I mean, I can understand when Wiseman was doing it, but there's no reason for Count and Huxian to replace us in Strider, right?"

"Trigger probably wanted only A-listers on his team," Skald answered, "Heh, he probably thought we couldn't keep up with him. That jerk."

"Cyclops 2, Cyclops 4, cut the chatter!" Fencer ordered, "I don't like it any more than you do, but orders are orders. If they want us to do it then we do it, understood?"

"Man, you're such a hardass, Captain." Tailor complained over the radio, "If you tell me to stay glued to your ass one more time, I'd probably just fly into the ocean."

"Cyclops 3, stop fluttering about and stay glued to my ass," Fencer said in a deadpan voice.

"Wait, that new guy is still here?" Lanza spoke up, "I thought he already transferred out somewhere else!"

"Eh, Lanza, he's been with us since Tyler Island," Skald replied, "I know. I don't know where the hell he came from, either. Didn't really contribute much to the squadron, too."

"Why did you guys have to be so mean to me!?" Tailor wailed, "It's not like you two are any better than me when it comes to being useful!"

"All of you, cut the chatter already!" Fencer ordered, "Damn, this is driving me nuts. How did Wiseman deal with this shit?"

"Sol 1, permission to shoot them down, sir," Hermann spoke through the radio.

"Negative, Sol 5. Just ignore them." I replied back, "They're not worth the trouble."

"You can say it, Wit. I know you can't stand those guys," Seymour chuckled, "I can't believe we have to work with them."

"Apparently, high command wants to promote 'cooperation between former warring nations'," Roald explained, "Which is another way of saying 'you two play nice now'. Sure, let's pretend we didn't try to kill each other just barely a month ago."

"Hey, I didn't ask to be working with you guys too, you know!?" Fencer retorted, "Your precious 'King' shot my ass down and killed my flight lead in Farbanti. Don't think for a second that I've forgotten it!"

"Yeah, and your oh-so-mighty Three Strikes shot me down twice, crippled King, and almost got my current flight leader killed at the Lighthouse!" Hermann spoke angrily, "Face it. Without Three Strikes, you people won't even last a minute against us!"

"Just wait until we return to base, you little shit!" Lanza shouted, "Let's see if you're as good with your fists as your trash-talking!"

"Alright, settle down, people. Let's keep this from getting ugly," Long Caster ordered, "This is supposed to be a cooperative mission, so play nice, guys. Let me enjoy my burger in peace, please."

"You're still eating past midnight?" Skald asked, "How much more can you eat, man?"

"Heh, I'm always hungry, buddy," Long Caster chuckled, "Besides, I'm not myself when I'm hungry, and you wouldn't like that."

"Ugh, of all the people we have to be stuck with, it has to be those guys…" Seymour mumbled, "I wish King was here."

"Let him have his rest, Seymour," I told him, "His granddaughters needed him. I can't imagine what they'd do if he didn't make it."

"Fair point, Wit," Seymour replied, "I'm just glad that you didn't get yourself killed when we fought those drones as well. I can't imagine losing another flight lead."

Heh, I have to admit, that was pretty embarrassing.

I checked my flight instruments again, looking if there's anything out of place that required attention. So far, so good. The decision to switch from a Su-30 to a Su-35 wasn't exactly the choice I'm in favor with, but it was necessary. Flying a Su-30 with only an AI operating co-pilot duties proved to be ineffective, especially when dealing with superior AI planes like the Raven drones. A single-seater allowed pilots to have better control of the plane. Besides, I learned the hard way that human reflexes trumped AI-based decisions every time.

Truth be told, I should still be in a hospital right now. The pain in my broken arm and ribs were still affecting my body from time to time. Getting shot down into the sea by a killer drone with superhuman abilities was not a pleasant experience, to say the least. It was a miracle that the impact didn't kill me outright, but it was hurt like hell. I got several rib fractures and my left arm was broken, and I almost drowned when the seawater started leaking into the cockpit. Ironically, the water that almost drowned me was also what kept me alive as it extinguished the fire so my plane didn't explode outright.

Even still, I almost didn't make it out of the cockpit until this one guy got me out. He was on a boat along with several other refugees that were fleeing from the Lighthouse. They managed to rescue several pilots that were shot down by the drones earlier, including me. I only learned much later that he was a former Osean convict that was happening to be in the area. Heh, to think that I have to be rescued by a convict, of all people, that's kinda embarrassing.

I was stuck inside the Selatapura General Hospital for weeks. Apparently, reports of my 'death' had been greatly exaggerated, and everyone including Mihaly himself thought I was killed in action. They only learned about my survival just a few days ago. Have to admit, I was amused by the thought of my friends being so shocked to learn that I was alive. Must have been quite a sight.

With only about a month passed since I got shot down, I decided to go back to flying. I insisted to my doctors that I'm fit to get back into service. After all, I and my friends are the only pilots left that can defend Shilage and Voslage. They need all the men they can get now that Mihaly's not flying anymore. I'm pretty sure that my body has healed up enough.

Have to admit, I'm still coming to terms with the fact that I won't be flying with him anymore. Mihaly would've hated being stuck on the ground. For someone who was so passionate about flying like him, being in such state is like living a constant nightmare until the day he died. No pilot should've gone through that.

At least we got one new squadron member to replace him, though.

"Sol 4, report your status," I ordered, "How's your plane doing, Juno?"

"All systems functional, Captain," A female voice answered me back. Her voice sounded somewhat distracted, "Have a little bit of trouble with engines slowing down just earlier, but I managed to fix it. Nothing to worry about, sir."

"Report to your mechanics as soon as you get back to base, Sol 4," I told her, "We want our planes to receive full maintenance and function as they should during sorties. You never know what we could run into out here, so we have to be ready for anything, got it?"

"Understood, sir."

"Good."

I turned to look at the newcomer's plane. She took up the leftmost position of the squadron, flying just behind Seymour. Technically, Juno should be Sol 5, but she respectfully requested to take up the position as Sol 4.

There's just something so mysterious about this "Juno Andor". For all I know, that probably wasn't her real name, either, but it's what she chose to call herself. The young black-haired lady claimed that "someone she cared very much for" once flew in the Erusean Air Force, and that she wanted to follow in their footsteps. Strangely enough, Mihaly himself recommended her to me. He said that she can be trusted, and advised me to give her a chance. I'm not usually one to question Mihaly's decisions, but I'm not big on the idea of having outsiders flying in our squadron. If this "Juno" can prove herself that she earned her place among us, then she can stay. Until then, I'm going to keep a close eye on her.

"One more thing, Sol 4, pay more attention to mission briefings from now on," I began, "I don't know what fascinated you so much about that handkerchief of yours, but I want you to concentrate on our mission, even if it's just a patrol duty. Failing to heed the briefings could mean life and death out here, so be more focused, got it?"

"Loud and clear."

"Loud and clear what, Lieutenant?"

Juno hesitated for a second before she answered back, "Loud and clear, _sir_."

"Man, and I thought Fencer is a hardass," Tailor mumbled, "I wouldn't want to fly with this guy."

"Yeah, even I have to agree. Be nice on the rookie, you dick." Fencer said.

"It's called being professional, Cyclops Squadron, something that you people seem to lack," Hermann retorted, "That's why you could never hope to compare with us."

"I want to punch this guy's face so hard…" Lanza grumbled.

"Don't worry about the squadron leader, Sol 4," Seymour spoke up, "He seems like a hardass, but he's alright. You'll get used to him."

"Got it, Sol 2," Juno chuckled, at least she's taking this well, "I'm looking forward to flying with you guys."

"It's nice to have you flying with us!" Roald said, "There are not many ladies flying in Vostalgian Air Force. It's about time we rectify that."

"Heh, you just want to see pretty ladies flying fighter jets, Sol 3!" Skald teased.

"Ugh…why couldn't we just turn off radios of those guys?" Hermann sighed.

Our mixed formations of nine planes cast shadows over the open water down below as we patrol over Spring Sea about three hundred miles east of Twinkle Islands. Nothing much has happened in this area during the Lighthouse War, as much of the combat was being concentrated on the Usean mainland. Tyler Island was probably the only island with major fighting and that's because it was a staging area for mass drivers to send up supplies to the Arsenal Birds. With their threats being dealt with, I can't imagine what we're going to find out here.

I thought back about my orders to Sol 4 earlier. I really didn't want to be harsh for the young recruit, but it's for her own good. Mihaly used to treat me the same way when I first joined the squadron. He often told us about the tales of an elite Erusean fighter squadron, of which its leader was his best and brightest student. He explained how pilots are responsible for their own planes – and that if something happens to you because your plane is not up to the task, then you don't have the right to complain. Mihaly then revealed how his best student – along with his entire squadron – was killed in action during the previous war due to their planes being in disrepair from continuous sorties.

This was why he was so harsh on me during our training sorties, and this is why I must continue to do so to anyone that joined my squadron. I won't let history repeat itself. We all survived the last war because our planes worked as they supposed to. Even if we got shot down, we managed to either eject or survive the crash because our planes were well-maintained. A banged-up plane would have a far less survival chance than a fully-functional one, and for us in the experimental squadron, a fully-functional plane is everything.

Mihaly's best student used to pride himself on never losing a wingman in battle, and he would've kept that record if not for a whole series of unfortunate events that struck him and his squadron time and time again.

I vowed to succeed where he failed. I won't let any of my wingmen die, not on my watch.

"Cyclops Squadron, Sol Squadron, be advised: I've received a transmission from the IUN high command," Long Caster began, "Looks like you will get to do something exciting tonight. Head east toward Twinkle Islands. Our mission parameter is now changed from patrol duty to a combat mission. You will receive an in-flight briefing on the way there, so pay attention."

"Finally! I was just getting bored out here." Roald said with excitement.

"Oh, come on! Just when I thought I could go back and get some rest, gimme a break!" Lanza complained.

"Suck it up, Cyclops 4," Fencer ordered, "Long Caster, we copy. Heading toward Twinkle Islands now. Sol Squadron, keep up with us!"

I sighed. Looks like my peaceful night flight has to be cut short for now.

Our planes picked up speed and we soared through the night skies toward our destination. The pain in my left arm started acting up again, but it should still be alright.

"Sol 4, whatever happens, stick close with me," I said over the radio, "Do not, under any circumstances, attempt to go off alone by yourself. Understood?"

"Understood, sir."

"Good. Stick with your wingmen and you'll be alright." I told her, "Long Caster, give us your briefing."

"A group of Erusean military officers and air force pilots had formed a resistance movement ever since the satellite disaster. Calling themselves 'Free Erusea', they were gathering up a large coalition force to organize a large-scale counteroffensive. They're also planning to reactivate a drone factory to produce more combat UAVs to support their cause as well."

"Free Erusea again? How many times must we teach those bastards a lesson?" Skald said, "They just keep coming back for more!"

"It's like they're addicted to causing trouble or something. As long as they're around, Usea will never know peace." Roald replied. Huh, never thought they'd actually agreed on something.

"Where is their base of operations, Long Caster?" Fencer asked, "They holed up somewhere on Twinkle Islands?"

"You're not gonna believe this," Long Caster's voice sounded alarmed, "It's the Megalith."

Sounds of loud gasping echoed throughout my cockpit as my wingmen and the Cyclops pilots were taken aback by this new information. I was actually quite surprised myself.

"Holy shit! Long Caster, are you serious!?" Tailor cried out in disbelief.

"I'm afraid I am, Tailor. After the siege of Farbanti, some of the Erusean Navy ships retreated out into the sea," Long Caster explained, "We weren't sure where they were heading back then because of lack of information. Now we finally know. Apparently, the facility was turned into a drone production factory some time before the war. It's probably where one of those super UAVs that we fought at the Lighthouse came from as well."

"Turning out not going to Megalith was the right call," Fencer noted, "We probably would've gotten ourselves killed if we headed into that beehive."

"Or the _wrong_ call, considering that you could've stopped those people before they became a threat," Seymour said, "But noooo, you just had to raid Shilage and pillage the supplies from refugees."

"Sol 2, now's not the time," I said to defuse the situation before it escalates, "Long Caster, if our target is the Megalith, then we need to come up with a plan ASAP. Assaulting a facility that massive is not going to be easy, especially if they had months to dig in and prepare themselves."

"Good point, Sol 1," Long Caster said, "Megalith is well-fortified from all directions even in its barest state. I'm assuming that they already saw to any weak point that may have existed when it was incomplete and rectify them. We'll just have to bomb the entire thing the old-fashioned way. Maintain air superiority and prevent anyone or anything from escaping until we can send the ground forces in. No easy tunnel run this time."

"Did you seriously just say 'easy tunnel run'?" Fencer chuckled, "Not all of us are as crazy as Trigger and Count, you know?"

"Yeah, not to mention that we're just only two squadrons!" Lanza added, "How do you expect just nine planes to take on an entire superfortress?"

"That's why I'm bringing extra help," Long Caster said proudly, "Just check out your radar, guys."

"Whoa, Sol 1, there's an aircraft approaching at high speed," Seymour said, "It's…it's an F-22."

"Is it Trigger?" Fencer asked.

"No. The name isn't registered on the LRSSG database," Skald replied, "It's someone else."

"So they sent just one fighter to assist us? Like that's gonna help!" Tailor wailed.

"Have faith, people," A mysterious voice spoke through the radio, "Just him alone is enough."

Suddenly, the F-22 flew past us overhead at high speed before gradually slowing down and maintain its position just ahead of us. The plane had a light grey color with a shade of cyan. One thing that distinguished it, though, was the blue ribbon emblem on its tail wing.

It's…

"Wit, it's him…" Seymour whispered through the radio, his voice sounded like he's in awe, "That's the guy Mihaly used to tell us so much about…"

"Took you long enough, Sky Eye," Long Caster said cheerfully, "Where have you been, buddy?"

"Sorry for the delay, Long Caster," The mysterious voice – Sky Eye – replied back with the same enthusiastic voice, "My pilot just had to take his sweet time messing around in San Salvacion, but he's all ready for duty as always. When he heard that Free Erusea is up to no good again, he didn't hesitate to get back into the air."

"That's good to hear. It'd be a hell of a night to see the legend back in action," Long Caster said, "When we get through this, pizzas and drinks are on me, Sky Eye."

"I'll hold your word for it, buddy," Sky Eye replied, "Just…be careful not to eat too much, you know? Wouldn't want anything to happen to my favorite AWACS."

"Heh, copy that, Sky Eye. Nothing to worry about."

The Raptor pilot had remained silent. No word was needed. The Cyclops guys were mumbling all sorts of things over the radio, but my wingmen were silent. We all know who this guy is and what he did. If he's really on our side, then there's no way that we could lose.

After all, who'd want _Mobius One_ as their enemy?

"Cyclops Squadron, Sol Squadron, be advised: your IFF database is now updated," Long Caster said, "Cyclops, for this mission, you will temporarily be transferred to Mobius Squadron. Fencer, Lanza, Tailor, Skald, your callsigns will be Mobius 2, Mobius 3, Mobius 4, and Mobius 5, respectively."

"Aw, come on! You let some stranger take the spotlight away from us!?" Tailor complained, "As if we didn't get our scenes stolen enough already!"

"Shut up already, Mobius 4," Fencer said, his voice sounded serious. At least there's one guy who knew who he's dealing with, "You should consider this an honor, new guy. You wouldn't believe half the shit your new squadron leader is capable of. Show some respect."

"Whoa, Fencer is getting' real out of the sudden," Lanza spoke, "Better listen to him, kid."

"Yeah, I have to agree," Skald added, "Let's just play along with this guy for now, see what he can do. I used to question Trigger's skills myself, and look how that turned out. He could be pretty good else he wouldn't be the only reinforcement we got."

"Finally, some logical thinking from you Oseans," Hermann said, "Never thought I'd see the day."

"You're gonna be in a world of pain when we get back to base, Sol 5," Skald snarled back.

"Alright, enough. We're coming up on the Megalith in three minutes," Long Caster ordered, "Radar scans showed that Free Erusea has already begun sending up their fighters and drones. Prepare for air-to-air combat."

"Copy that, Long Caster," I said, "All fighters report in."

"Sol 2, standing by."

"Sol 3, standing by."

"Sol 5, standing by."

.

.

.

_Silence_

.

.

"Sol 4, report in," I ordered in a stern voice. What the hell was that new girl doing? "Pay attention, Juno! We're about to fly into the combat zone, damn it. Do you want to get yourself killed?"

"I'm sorry, sir!" Juno finally replied back, her voice sounded distracted, "Sol 4, standing by!"

"About damn time," I said, "Remember what I told you: stick close to me or your wingmen and don't stray far on your own no matter what happens. You are _not_ allowed to die, understood?"

"Loud and clear, sir!"

"Good."

I turned to check on Sol 4 again. Through the cockpit, I saw that Juno was staring at the plane with the blue ribbon flying ahead of her. I could tell that she was completely captivated by the legendary ace pilot, but I suspect that there could be something more about it: something more… _personal_.

Whatever that might be, I'll have to worry about that another day.

The Megalith was now appearing in my sight. Dozens of aircraft and UAVs were patrolling over it on high alert, and I noticed no less than fifteen surface-to-air installations on the surface. Those Free Eruseans sure had been busy like Long Caster said.

"Mobius 1, engage. Cleared to engage." Sky Eye confirmed.

"Mobius 2 on standby," Fencer said,

"Mobius 3 to 5 on standby," Lanza reported.

"Preparations are complete. All aircraft follow Mobius 1!" Sky Eye spoke, "Today's my son's birthday! A victory sure would be nice!"

"Let's give him a nice birthday gift by making a big sandwich out of the Megalith, then," Long Caster added, "Let's get cookin', people!"

And so, our brief period of peace was officially over. Time to get back to do what we do best.

It's time to put this ancient relic of the last Continental War to rest for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Juno Andor is an OC character that I created. You should be able to guess who she's related to (I just love her too much, damn it…) from all the breadcrumbs I left in the story. I was having a hard time picking up the right name for her, to be honest. I wanted something to reflect the name 'Aquila', the nickname (or official name?) of Yellow Squadron, but none of it ended up sound right, so I just pick the names of two of my favorite characters in Star Wars (Juno Eclipse from The Force Unleashed video game, Cassian Andor from Rogue One: A Star Wars Story), both also happened to be pilots themselves as well.
> 
> For now, I thank you all readers who have read, reviewed, followed, and favorited my story. It really means a lot for an aspiring writer who's not a native English user like I am. Feel free to point out the mistakes or gave constructive criticisms and I'll be sure to learn from them. Thank you again for all your support! Happy flying, aces!


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